Hello, dear girls! [This is Day #150 of emailing daily, by the way!]
Tonight I'm reading from Psalm 69-71.
"O God, from my youth you have taught me,
and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds.
18 So even to old age and gray hairs,
O God, do not forsake me,
until I proclaim your might to another generation,
your power to all those to come."
You
and I have the immense privilege of being raised in Christian homes and
having been saved early in life. If only we fully understood and
appreciated the years of grief we've been spared by having such a
wonderful start! It is, of course, not a default that we can just "coast
along" through life on our parents' coattails of faith; no, we have to
sweat and bleed and work and feel the pain of claiming the cross of
Christ as our own. At the end of the day, it is each of us, alone, in
the Colosseum, dared to deny our Lord. No wimpy church-camp religion
here, girls. But at the same time, we have been given the gift of a Lamp
to our paths so early in the journey, the right Word of truth to guide
us from all lies--think of all those people out stumbling in the world,
unable to discern truth from error, unsure of which way is right, weak
and unfit for any battle! What a long road they have. And those who are
saved later in life, after sowing seeds of sin in their earlier years,
they reap the grievous harvest not only in this life, but the next:
think of the spouses or children who will not be among the redeemed.
Entire families who turn against the one believer and persecute their
own kin with a vengeance (think of the Christians who come to the truth
amidst a system like Islam!). Their lives are hard.
Be grateful for what
you have been given--a faith that claimed you while you were so young,
and a life that stretches out before you, even into your silver-haired
years, a life of joyful submission, service, freedom, comfort and
assurance beneath the banner of the salvation of God through Jesus
Christ. Use this gift wisely, and do not waste your young years in
comfort and indifference. Spend them stocking up on spiritual wisdom and
knowledge, cultivating the fruits of the Spirit, and learning more and
more about the character of God, that you may be able to withstand in
the evil day. Then go out into the fields, which are white for harvest.
Be strong. Strengthen yourselves, not bodily, for the body is wasting
away and growing older only to die and decay, but rather strengthen
yourselves spiritually--for your soul shall not die, but live eternally
in the presence of the great and wondrous King! Gloria!
Showing posts with label Jesus Christ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus Christ. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Who Has Bewitched You?
Instead of writing a usual email to the girls tonight, I sent them this excerpt and paraphrase from Galatians 3:1-8.
-----------------------
Hi girls! I hope you enjoyed this most lovely Saturday. I certainly did, out-of-doors, prepping to put in raspberry plants. We're a little late, but a friend of mine just gave me a big tote of starts from her garden, so I will be putting them in anyway.
Tonight I started the book of Galatians in my reading (I've gotten a bit off-schedule this past week or two). Here, Paul writes to the church at Galatia, which has allowed erroneous teaching to creep in and lead them astray into salvation-by-works-of-the-law teaching, which we know is false--yet it was appealing to them then, and it is still appealing to people today. Why do you think every other religion and cult requires some kind of works or rule-keeping in order to "join the elite"? Because it makes people feel as if they are doing something to earn their righteousness, and it glosses over the ugly reality that "all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God." "There is none who is righteous, no, not one." If the devil can have people feeling that they're doing a good thing and somehow contributing to their right standing before God, then he knows he's got them all the way deceived and nowhere near being genuinely saved--for true salvation comes only from recognizing that our own righteousness is filthy rags, and there is only one intermediary between us and God--the Lord Jesus Christ. See here what Paul writes to the church struggling with this serious issue:
"O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified. 2 Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? 3 Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh? 4 Did you suffer so many things in vain—if indeed it was in vain? 5 Does he who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you do so by works of the law, or by hearing with faith— 6 just as Abraham “believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness”? 7 Know then that it is those of faith who are the sons of Abraham. 8 And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “In you shall all the nations be blessed.” 9 So then, those who are of faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith."
. . . Coram Deo . . .
"Living before the face of God"
-----------------------
Hi girls! I hope you enjoyed this most lovely Saturday. I certainly did, out-of-doors, prepping to put in raspberry plants. We're a little late, but a friend of mine just gave me a big tote of starts from her garden, so I will be putting them in anyway.
Tonight I started the book of Galatians in my reading (I've gotten a bit off-schedule this past week or two). Here, Paul writes to the church at Galatia, which has allowed erroneous teaching to creep in and lead them astray into salvation-by-works-of-the-law teaching, which we know is false--yet it was appealing to them then, and it is still appealing to people today. Why do you think every other religion and cult requires some kind of works or rule-keeping in order to "join the elite"? Because it makes people feel as if they are doing something to earn their righteousness, and it glosses over the ugly reality that "all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God." "There is none who is righteous, no, not one." If the devil can have people feeling that they're doing a good thing and somehow contributing to their right standing before God, then he knows he's got them all the way deceived and nowhere near being genuinely saved--for true salvation comes only from recognizing that our own righteousness is filthy rags, and there is only one intermediary between us and God--the Lord Jesus Christ. See here what Paul writes to the church struggling with this serious issue:
"O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified. 2 Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? 3 Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh? 4 Did you suffer so many things in vain—if indeed it was in vain? 5 Does he who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you do so by works of the law, or by hearing with faith— 6 just as Abraham “believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness”? 7 Know then that it is those of faith who are the sons of Abraham. 8 And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “In you shall all the nations be blessed.” 9 So then, those who are of faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith."
O foolish girls! Who has bewitched you? You
have seen and believed the evidence that Jesus Christ was indeed
crucified. Let me ask you only this: Did you receive salvation because
of all the good things you did, or was it by believing the Word of God
in faith, without any good work? Having begun your Christian life so
ardently in the Holy Spirit, have you now rabbit-trailed off and tried
to "supplement" it with being a "good" person? Was your initial exuberance and
steadfastness all for naught--or is there yet a shred of
hope for you? God supplies the Holy Spirit to you and works miracles in
you--but does he do it because you adhere to the old law, or is it
because you heard the gospel and believed through faith? After all, even in
the Old Testament, Abraham "believed God, and it was counted to him as
righteousness." In the same way, all who believe are also counted
among the redeemed, just like Abraham. The Bible, because God would justify all who believe by faith, records the early presentation
of the gospel to Abraham, speaking of Jesus: "In you shall all nations
of the earth be blessed." So remember, girls, all who believe by faith and live by faith
are also blessed, and their salvation is secured, just like Abraham of old.
The only place good works have in the believer's life is that they are an out-flowing expression of the love we have for our Lord and our delight in obeying his word. Good works are a fruit of saving faith, not a bargaining chip in negotiating one's salvation. Such knowledge should fill us with joy and even more delight in doing good works as ambassadors of the name of Christ, because there are no stipulations to be met, no burden to bear--only the joy of true freedom. "I delight to do Your will, O my God; Your law is within my heart." (Ps. 40:8)
Good
night! Have a most glorious and blessed day worshiping our Lord
together tomorrow! I'll see [some of] you at church tomorrow.
Love,
~Brenna. . . Coram Deo . . .
"Living before the face of God"
Friday, May 10, 2013
The Blog Post About Women and Clothes
From tonight's email to my lovely girls:
Believe me, the feminine closet is an ever-present responsibility. So many factors to consider! Such a delicate balance to be found between equally unlovely opposite sides of the spectrum. What a lot of maintenance--because for the woman who loves her Savior and strives to honor his name in every area of her life, the wardrobe is an especially challenging project to tackle. But it must be given careful thought, for just as in any other aspect, carelessness or a headstrong "I'll-do-it-my-way" attitude is not indicative of complete submission to the Holy Spirit.
First, let me say that for us, maintaining a God-honoring closet requires a lot of prayer. That sounds silly, doesn't it? What kind of nutcase prays about what to wear?
Well, I do. Here's why.
#1: God made women beautiful. Everything about the feminine character, from her physical design to the varied blends of personality, temperament, style, mannerisms, voice, mind and articulation, etc. etc. were designed by God and crafted all together in one creature called a woman, to be the helper to his first creation, man, and to glorify the name of the Lord by gracing his creation with femininity.
#2: God is honored when women cultivate and nourish their womanliness, and purposefully blossom into creatures of grace, gentleness, beauty, intelligence, and helpfulness. I like to think of this metamorphosis as stemming from a spiritual "core," which is simply 100% devoted to loving Jesus Christ and serving him first of all. Then, as the Spirit works his sanctification in you, outward manifestations become evident of this inward change--including changes in how you speak, dress, move, act and react in response to the world around you. You blossom into a wholly feminine woman.
#3: Even Adam in a perfect world full of marvelous creatures was incomplete, and when he saw Eve, he knew he'd been given what no other creature in the world could be--a soulmate and companion, a helper, a wife (Genesis 2:18-25).
And, because women are innately desirable to men (and men to women, for that matter--but that is another conversation for another day), and because we live in a terribly fallen world that is deformed by sin that twists and mars this beautiful attraction, we sometimes forget what it was meant to be and we look to the sin-seeped culture, observing its counterfeits, and because we are weak, we succumb and do the same--sometimes even unintentionally, that's how ingrained we can become in the ways of the flesh. Little things slip in here and there, and bit by bit our wholesome feminine essence is chipped away and sold out for something that is not only cheap and fake, it is wrong and it dishonors God, and it is a very serious offense. That's why we have to talk about this, no matter what your current feelings are --awkward, eye-rolling, worried, open--whatever. You need to consider these things if you never have before, and if you've heard them a hundred times, you still need to hear them again, and then we all need to open our closet doors and get on our knees before God.
Feminine modesty is not an inconsequential matter. If the devil can get you to believe so, he'll have you--a "good Christian girl"--as a spectacular tool in his claws to make great men fall and wreak havoc in the kingdom of God. Do not go down so easy, dear ones.
I'm not going to talk to you about "respecting yourself." I'm not even going to talk to you about how precious, cherished, and valuable women are in God's eyes--this is true, but tonight I'm talking about what goes on your mind, in your heart, that makes you select the things to wear that you do. What are your motives? Don't bypass your heart's motives and be confused by the many lesser-important things that come into play--for example, I like clothes reminiscent of hippie/bohemian/earthy/old world romanticism, and I (almost) despise business attire. Not because one is better than the other, but because I simply like one more and the other less, in conjunction with my personality. Other factors that necessarily contribute to the clothing you choose will be the work and play that occupies your time, the socioeconomic class and geographical area in which you live, the season of the year, whether the event is formal or casual, etc. But none of these things has the power to be modest and God-honoring--or otherwise--without your heart's direction and motivation.
Let's not get bogged down with skirt-length regulations, T-shirt circumference rules, or earring length gauges. Here's the crux of the matter: if you love Jesus, really really love him, and you've been saved by the grace of God through his Son Jesus, if you're walking on the road that is narrow and scorned by many, looking neither to the left nor to the right, if you have tasted of the love of God, then you will love the people in the world around you (including men) with the love that God bestowed on you who were unworthy--this love is the love of a sister for her brothers, a daughter for her father, a mother for her son, a wife for her husband--a love that helps, upholds, encourages, eases burdens and assists them in their wearisome battles. I am a sister to four brothers; many of you are sisters to brothers as well, and if you haven't a brother, I bet there is either a dad or a cousin or a nephew-- all of whom you won't be marrying, but whom you still love fiercely. A sister's love is angry when foolish girls tempt her brothers, even subtly. You need to be the girl who is loving these men, praying for them, and helping to shovel rocks out of the path, not standing there throwing more in their way.
In my mind, I see the faces and know the names of girls who go to youth group, go to church, occasionally post something Bible-ish on Facebook, but persistently cause their brothers in the Lord to stumble because they refuse to love those men with a selfless love that cares more for others than for oneself. They have their reward now, dear girls--the silly attention of foolish boys (see Proverbs 7) and the jealous half-friendships of equally trite girls. But, oh, my dear little sisters--do not be deceived--they will each give account for these things. You and I will stand before God and give an account as well. I have no desire to explain for years of egocentric living, wearing whatever garners immediate attention, regardless of the long-term consequences of wrecking other people's hearts and minds, do you?
But I'm telling you, sweet ones, it won't be easy. No way. It's hard to be quiet and modest, because you will be overlooked, ignored, misunderstood, and all manner of other unpleasant things. It's hard because your biggest battles aren't from the outside, they're waged from within between our carnal nature and our new nature in Christ! It's hard because you will want the attention those other flashy girls get, you'll feel unlovely and not beautiful at times, and besides all of that, it will be inconvenient and a lot of work. These are all things the devil will gladly point out to you in hopes of getting you to give up on the mission altogether, in order to concentrate on "more important" aspects of your Christian life. He might suggest that you go on a mission trip or volunteer someplace doing something benevolent, anything to pacify your conscience and keep you wearing the clothes that are hurting God's up-and-coming men who are currently making the devil nervous. You'd be the perfect, subtle thing to trip them up and keep them from doing anything really worthwhile. Then you can all limp along in carnal Christianity, totally crippled spiritually and accomplishing nothing for the kingdom. Perfect.
I know, I know--this letter's getting long.
You get the point. It's serious stuff here, girls. I'm not trying to be a
killjoy--honestly! I love putting together outfits and accessories as
much as any girl. It's so fun to find just the perfect thing.
That's all fine and good, but please, please think about what you're
wearing, who you're wearing it for, and why you picked this item over
that one--examine what's going on way down there in those reeeally hidden places of your heart. Perhaps all is not as it seems, and some serious prayer and wardrobe re-vamping are in order.
It may sound simple or cliched, but seriously, if Jesus Christ, your Lord and Savior whom you love and adore, saw you in everything you wear, walked with you, sat with you, and saw you in action--would he rejoice or would he be grieved? And by the way, no need to imagine if he were by your side . . . he already is.
All my love,
~Brenna
. . . Coram Deo . . .
"Living before the face of God"
Monday, May 6, 2013
The JOY of Giving
I realize my posts have been a bit somber as of late. So, tonight, I'm thinking about the joy of generosity and the heart attitude of a true Christian--cheerful giving. Here's an excerpt from tonight's email to the girls, on our one hundred and twentieth day of reading the Word and writing to our sisters in Christ!
Hello, dear girls!
Proverbs 11:25 "Whoever brings blessing will be enriched, and one who waters will himself be watered."
I would like to encourage you to think about this and consider what things God has given to you and your family that you could be more generous with. If you're drawing a blank, pray that He will show you how to be more generous, not only in sharing whatever you've been given, but also in developing the heart of a joyful giver, and then pray earnestly for opportunities to GIVE! Be creative--you'll be surprised at the plethora of things that can be shared.
Love always,
Brenna
Friday, April 19, 2013
The Speck in My Brother's Eye
For scores of Americans, this week has been one of terrible loss. From my own small town to the great metropolis of Boston, grief and terror have seen an abrupt rise to power. In my town, a fifteen year old boy killed himself last week, shocking our close-knit community. In Massachusetts, double bombings killed and maimed dozens, and emotionally scarred thousands. In Texas, a fertilizer plant explosion compounded the national chaos and loss of precious lives. Law enforcement and emergency personnel are slain in the line of duty. Children lose parents. Parents lose children. Runners lose legs. And the whole world falls to shambles. Isn't there something or someone, somewhere, to blame for this terrible mess?
Yes.
There is one terrible, hellish curse to blame for the atrocities we've seen this week. It's name is Sin, and it is the grotesque delight and consuming passion of humanity's archenemy, Satan. How he laughs when bombs detonate and chaos reigns. How his legions cheer when children die on sidewalks. What sick delight he finds in sowing seeds of darkness in every heart, cultivating his crops of terror in every corner of the globe.
It is easy in times like these to attribute the heinous insanity of Tamerlan and Dzokhar Tsarneav to devilish forces. Discussion forums across the web wish them both eternal damnation for their crimes. It's tempting to agree.
But, truthfully, do I have any right to wish that these young terrorists burn in hell? What makes them more deserving than I? The fact that they set off bombs and killed people, while I did not?
Listen to these words by C.J. Mahaney: "When I become bitter or unforgiving toward others, I’m assuming that the sins of others are more serious than my sins against God. The cross transforms my perspective. Through the cross I realize that no sin committed against me will ever be as serious as the innumerable sins I’ve committed against God. When we understand how much God has forgiven us, it’s not difficult to forgive others."
The message of the cross is not a system of "worthiness to be saved," with some people working their way to the top of a waiting list. It's not for "good people" who are proud and blind to their sins. It's for the scum of the earth, to redeem them from the destruction that reigns in their darkened hearts and consumes them with an everlasting death. And here, Jesus says to us, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” (see Matthew 9:11-13)
I, too, have a heart of sin like the Tsarneav brothers, like you, like every other person on this earth today. We are equally condemned in our sins. Friends, we're all the scum of the earth.
"Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother's eye." (see Luke 6:41-42)
The response to this Week of Terror ought not be bitterness, revenge, or hatred. My attitude cannot be one of scorn or mockery toward the condemned. What hypocrisy to preach mercy and salvation to all--except those who "jump off the deep end" and kill people. They ought to perish in their sins. No! My attitude must be one of tremendous grief and fervent prayer for a country reeling in the aftershock of devastation, both victims and perpetrators. All desperately need the salvation that comes through repentance and belief in the Lord Jesus Christ, a message rejected by millions, but hope and healing and life and peace to all who surrender to Him.
. . . . . . . . . .
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month.
The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more.
They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.
~Revelation 22:1-5
Yes.
There is one terrible, hellish curse to blame for the atrocities we've seen this week. It's name is Sin, and it is the grotesque delight and consuming passion of humanity's archenemy, Satan. How he laughs when bombs detonate and chaos reigns. How his legions cheer when children die on sidewalks. What sick delight he finds in sowing seeds of darkness in every heart, cultivating his crops of terror in every corner of the globe.
It is easy in times like these to attribute the heinous insanity of Tamerlan and Dzokhar Tsarneav to devilish forces. Discussion forums across the web wish them both eternal damnation for their crimes. It's tempting to agree.
But, truthfully, do I have any right to wish that these young terrorists burn in hell? What makes them more deserving than I? The fact that they set off bombs and killed people, while I did not?
Listen to these words by C.J. Mahaney: "When I become bitter or unforgiving toward others, I’m assuming that the sins of others are more serious than my sins against God. The cross transforms my perspective. Through the cross I realize that no sin committed against me will ever be as serious as the innumerable sins I’ve committed against God. When we understand how much God has forgiven us, it’s not difficult to forgive others."
The message of the cross is not a system of "worthiness to be saved," with some people working their way to the top of a waiting list. It's not for "good people" who are proud and blind to their sins. It's for the scum of the earth, to redeem them from the destruction that reigns in their darkened hearts and consumes them with an everlasting death. And here, Jesus says to us, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” (see Matthew 9:11-13)
I, too, have a heart of sin like the Tsarneav brothers, like you, like every other person on this earth today. We are equally condemned in our sins. Friends, we're all the scum of the earth.
"Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother's eye." (see Luke 6:41-42)
The response to this Week of Terror ought not be bitterness, revenge, or hatred. My attitude cannot be one of scorn or mockery toward the condemned. What hypocrisy to preach mercy and salvation to all--except those who "jump off the deep end" and kill people. They ought to perish in their sins. No! My attitude must be one of tremendous grief and fervent prayer for a country reeling in the aftershock of devastation, both victims and perpetrators. All desperately need the salvation that comes through repentance and belief in the Lord Jesus Christ, a message rejected by millions, but hope and healing and life and peace to all who surrender to Him.
. . . . . . . . . .
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month.
The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more.
They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.
~Revelation 22:1-5
Monday, April 8, 2013
Standing in the Sun
Today was one of those quintessentially spring-ish days. Every year I fall in love with spring more and more, and it is a bit of a sorrow to me that the last five years--including this one--have found me mired in school work and unable to run outside, fling open my arms to the sun, smell the damp dirt and kiss my little goats' furry faces at every chance. But, in a way, the obligatory leash of The Nursing Program (yes, capitalized) has made me behold with a fresh wonder the glory of this time of year, particularly today, as I strain against the cord of annotated bibliography assignments. I lean out my second story window, take out the screen, and close my eyes as the bamboo wind chimes sing in the garden and the shaggy orchard grass glows in the last slanting rays of the sun. And I think, in this life, this quick, spinning, brief life, what more could there be than to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with my God? (Micah 6:8)
I woke up this morning from a deep, good, sweet sleep, and I awoke with the startling realization that my life is magnificently blessed. Who am I to be the receiver of a life so charmed? My parents are still married, and actually love each other (29 years and counting!). My one sister (of whom I am jealously protective) is six years into one of the most blessed marriages I've had the privilege of watching. My four younger brothers (whom I love with dreadful fierceness) are rising up, growing into the kinds of men who cast off the shabby farce of weak-minded manhood, instead asking hard questions and seeking true answers--a search that is changing them from boys to warriors before my eyes. My niece (2 years old) and nephew (4 weeks old) thrive and grow in a pure, earnest home with a mama and a papa who fear God and love his commandments.
And then there is me.
Somewhere in the middle of this bustling mini-universe that is our family, there is a 22 year old woman standing in the light of the Son, and it blinds me sometimes, when I turn my face into His glory. I'm walking, as we all are walking, and I see the junction just ahead. It's fast approaching, and when I get there, this road ends where a thousand others begin, and I'll have to pick one or stand forever on the sidewalk, watching the traffic rush by. But, it's so hard to choose. In two months I'll be done with nursing school. The pursuit that ate up the end of my teen years and launched me solidly into my twenties, forever out of childhood and into adulthood, will be over, and I'll have to move on--maybe literally.
You see, in my hometown, which is rather small and out-of-the-way, there aren't many (if any) jobs for new nurses. Quite frankly, it's just a bad time to be graduating from nursing school. Five years ago would have been a lot better. Five years from now it may be again--but I'm in the slump years, and I know it was meant to be so. I know He has not forgotten me. I know the joy of the LORD is my strength, and that I am doing this not for a good job or a paycheck or to impress anybody by having the "RN" letters behind my name, but I am doing this so that I may be of greater service to my Lord, wherever and whenever and however He should choose to use me. And if he never uses this profession, this skill set that is "nursing" which I have learned (though the thought is hard to swallow at the moment), I will not insist on using it. If He closes every door that I have knocked upon, I know it is because He knows better than I. Doors have already closed to me; even this afternoon I could scratch out another possibility on my list of hopefuls. And, for the first time, there is the possibility that I might have to leave all that I love and move away to find a job as a nurse, which brings me to some serious introspection: is it worth it? What is the point of what I'm doing? How much will I shell out in the name of Nursing? And, more importantly, it drives me into the Living Word to see what God is telling me to do, especially when each plan and sub-plan of mine are gently and firmly shut down.
But here is something surprising: as much as I hope for such-and-such opportunity to work out, and as much as I pursue it diligently, fill out the necessary applications and present myself as best I can, I have found an abiding equilibrium in knowing that it is He who ordains the future, and it is He who will orchestrate my life into a pleasing symphony of praise. When I get the letter, or answer the phone and receive the message of rejection (and I have, several times), it gets easier with each one--which is ironic, considering that rejection is generally depressing. But I am standing in the sun today; it warms and cheers my body, and I stand in the Son every day; He warms and cheers my soul. Being rejected has become almost exciting; I get to say, "Well, that wasn't it, was it, Lord?" And I smile, both in trust and bewilderment.
In the meantime, not knowing what the remaining year holds, and not even knowing where I will be in eight weeks, I'm surprised by His peace that allows me to notice and delight in the piano's muted arpeggios as the boys practice their music downstairs, the winter pear tree by the garden gate that just burst into a snowy froth of blossoms, and the delectable smell of the waffles some good soul is making for dinner. All is well when one walks humbly, trustingly, and quietly before the LORD of heaven and earth.
I woke up this morning from a deep, good, sweet sleep, and I awoke with the startling realization that my life is magnificently blessed. Who am I to be the receiver of a life so charmed? My parents are still married, and actually love each other (29 years and counting!). My one sister (of whom I am jealously protective) is six years into one of the most blessed marriages I've had the privilege of watching. My four younger brothers (whom I love with dreadful fierceness) are rising up, growing into the kinds of men who cast off the shabby farce of weak-minded manhood, instead asking hard questions and seeking true answers--a search that is changing them from boys to warriors before my eyes. My niece (2 years old) and nephew (4 weeks old) thrive and grow in a pure, earnest home with a mama and a papa who fear God and love his commandments.
And then there is me.
Somewhere in the middle of this bustling mini-universe that is our family, there is a 22 year old woman standing in the light of the Son, and it blinds me sometimes, when I turn my face into His glory. I'm walking, as we all are walking, and I see the junction just ahead. It's fast approaching, and when I get there, this road ends where a thousand others begin, and I'll have to pick one or stand forever on the sidewalk, watching the traffic rush by. But, it's so hard to choose. In two months I'll be done with nursing school. The pursuit that ate up the end of my teen years and launched me solidly into my twenties, forever out of childhood and into adulthood, will be over, and I'll have to move on--maybe literally.
You see, in my hometown, which is rather small and out-of-the-way, there aren't many (if any) jobs for new nurses. Quite frankly, it's just a bad time to be graduating from nursing school. Five years ago would have been a lot better. Five years from now it may be again--but I'm in the slump years, and I know it was meant to be so. I know He has not forgotten me. I know the joy of the LORD is my strength, and that I am doing this not for a good job or a paycheck or to impress anybody by having the "RN" letters behind my name, but I am doing this so that I may be of greater service to my Lord, wherever and whenever and however He should choose to use me. And if he never uses this profession, this skill set that is "nursing" which I have learned (though the thought is hard to swallow at the moment), I will not insist on using it. If He closes every door that I have knocked upon, I know it is because He knows better than I. Doors have already closed to me; even this afternoon I could scratch out another possibility on my list of hopefuls. And, for the first time, there is the possibility that I might have to leave all that I love and move away to find a job as a nurse, which brings me to some serious introspection: is it worth it? What is the point of what I'm doing? How much will I shell out in the name of Nursing? And, more importantly, it drives me into the Living Word to see what God is telling me to do, especially when each plan and sub-plan of mine are gently and firmly shut down.
But here is something surprising: as much as I hope for such-and-such opportunity to work out, and as much as I pursue it diligently, fill out the necessary applications and present myself as best I can, I have found an abiding equilibrium in knowing that it is He who ordains the future, and it is He who will orchestrate my life into a pleasing symphony of praise. When I get the letter, or answer the phone and receive the message of rejection (and I have, several times), it gets easier with each one--which is ironic, considering that rejection is generally depressing. But I am standing in the sun today; it warms and cheers my body, and I stand in the Son every day; He warms and cheers my soul. Being rejected has become almost exciting; I get to say, "Well, that wasn't it, was it, Lord?" And I smile, both in trust and bewilderment.
In the meantime, not knowing what the remaining year holds, and not even knowing where I will be in eight weeks, I'm surprised by His peace that allows me to notice and delight in the piano's muted arpeggios as the boys practice their music downstairs, the winter pear tree by the garden gate that just burst into a snowy froth of blossoms, and the delectable smell of the waffles some good soul is making for dinner. All is well when one walks humbly, trustingly, and quietly before the LORD of heaven and earth.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
This, This is Why
More thoughts for my girls, from my Bible reading this evening.
Tonight, I'm reading from Matthew 26 through Mark 2.
The end of Matthew chronicles the unjust trial, condemnation, persecution, crucifixion, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. It's a powerful story, even more so this time of year, with Easter only a couple of weeks away. There is so much I could say; I don't know where to focus for just one thoughts for this email.
I suppose I want to draw your attention to the night Jesus prayed in the garden of Gethsemane, and his disciples (who were supposed to be praying and watching at the gate) repeatedly fell asleep and left him alone, unsupported, in his darkest hour. (See Matthew 26:36-46)
I have to confess; for a long time (and maybe even still), I really didn't understand Jesus' grief and despair at this time. I guess I thought, "Yes, definitely it would be somber to await one's executioners, even more so when you hadn't done anything wrong. How scary to be unjustly condemned, and how awful to await the dawn, knowing it would bring nothing but terror and, ultimately, a murderer's death by agonizing crucifixion." I didn't really get it. Jesus didn't sweat drops of blood and weep because he was afraid to die an agonizing death. (Which would be reason enough for me to sweat blood and cry, by the way. I'm terribly afraid of pain). He spent the night in total anguish because he knew that his death meant not merely excruciating physical pain, and total humiliation, but . . . he, the Holy, the Sovereign, the Son of the Father who knew God, loved God, and who was God, would become the recipient of the righteous, terrible wrath of a just and holy God. We cannot even begin to comprehend what kind of terror and anguish this is. The only Man who had ever lived in perfect obedience, total innocence, without one single sin against him, would become a blood-saturated substitute for all who were truly guilty. His holiness, cleanness, and perfect purity would bear the punishment deserved by all who were filthy, rotten, foul, debased, and evil to the core of their very beings. The punishment you and I deserve.
That is why he wept. Not for physical pain, but for spiritual anguish. The wrath of God is a crippling, terrible, frightening, killing kind of fear that cuts to the quick of all who understand its measure. It is this gasping, paralyzing, anguishing fear that drives foul sinners to repentance, that drives them to their knees, begging forgiveness from a Holy God before whom they have no reason to stand except for His grace. But, He cannot simply be gracious to wicked people and still be just; all sins have a just recompense, a wage that has been earned and must be paid. That wage is death. An agonizing, spiritual, separated-from-God death. A death you and I, by all rights, have earned for ourselves by our foul hearts.
And Jesus Christ, that loving, gentle, holy, perfect, beautiful Son of Man and Son of God, saw down the corridors of time and saw your face, your tear-filled eyes, your guilty sentence, your hopeless plight, your foul record of sins, and he stepped up to executioner's block, not only for a physical death, but for the full onslaught of the out-poured wrath of God. For you. For me. And it cost him, oh so dearly. Such anguish. Such grief. How he prayed in that garden that there might be some other way! "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will, Father."
Oh, how great is our God. How merciful. How slow to anger, abounding in mercy. What is man, that You are mindful of him? We are so small, so weak, so flawed, yet he loves us still. I cannot understand such love. And in its wake, as a recipient of such immeasurable graciousness, how can I possibly settle for a religion that is shallow, weak, apathetic, fleshly in its lusts, and requires me to give less than absolutely everything? Look at what He did for me! Would I insult him so, and disregard such love? What hypocrisy is such a pseudo-faith! Far be it from me, oh Lord. I am weak, but You are strong. Help me, Father, to live with urgency and a right perspective of my place: from whence I've come, by Your amazing grace.
"Who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began." (2 Tim 1:9)
All my love, sweet girls,
~Brenna
. . . Coram Deo . . .
"Living before the face of God"
Tonight, I'm reading from Matthew 26 through Mark 2.
The end of Matthew chronicles the unjust trial, condemnation, persecution, crucifixion, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. It's a powerful story, even more so this time of year, with Easter only a couple of weeks away. There is so much I could say; I don't know where to focus for just one thoughts for this email.
I suppose I want to draw your attention to the night Jesus prayed in the garden of Gethsemane, and his disciples (who were supposed to be praying and watching at the gate) repeatedly fell asleep and left him alone, unsupported, in his darkest hour. (See Matthew 26:36-46)
I have to confess; for a long time (and maybe even still), I really didn't understand Jesus' grief and despair at this time. I guess I thought, "Yes, definitely it would be somber to await one's executioners, even more so when you hadn't done anything wrong. How scary to be unjustly condemned, and how awful to await the dawn, knowing it would bring nothing but terror and, ultimately, a murderer's death by agonizing crucifixion." I didn't really get it. Jesus didn't sweat drops of blood and weep because he was afraid to die an agonizing death. (Which would be reason enough for me to sweat blood and cry, by the way. I'm terribly afraid of pain). He spent the night in total anguish because he knew that his death meant not merely excruciating physical pain, and total humiliation, but . . . he, the Holy, the Sovereign, the Son of the Father who knew God, loved God, and who was God, would become the recipient of the righteous, terrible wrath of a just and holy God. We cannot even begin to comprehend what kind of terror and anguish this is. The only Man who had ever lived in perfect obedience, total innocence, without one single sin against him, would become a blood-saturated substitute for all who were truly guilty. His holiness, cleanness, and perfect purity would bear the punishment deserved by all who were filthy, rotten, foul, debased, and evil to the core of their very beings. The punishment you and I deserve.
That is why he wept. Not for physical pain, but for spiritual anguish. The wrath of God is a crippling, terrible, frightening, killing kind of fear that cuts to the quick of all who understand its measure. It is this gasping, paralyzing, anguishing fear that drives foul sinners to repentance, that drives them to their knees, begging forgiveness from a Holy God before whom they have no reason to stand except for His grace. But, He cannot simply be gracious to wicked people and still be just; all sins have a just recompense, a wage that has been earned and must be paid. That wage is death. An agonizing, spiritual, separated-from-God death. A death you and I, by all rights, have earned for ourselves by our foul hearts.
And Jesus Christ, that loving, gentle, holy, perfect, beautiful Son of Man and Son of God, saw down the corridors of time and saw your face, your tear-filled eyes, your guilty sentence, your hopeless plight, your foul record of sins, and he stepped up to executioner's block, not only for a physical death, but for the full onslaught of the out-poured wrath of God. For you. For me. And it cost him, oh so dearly. Such anguish. Such grief. How he prayed in that garden that there might be some other way! "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will, Father."
Oh, how great is our God. How merciful. How slow to anger, abounding in mercy. What is man, that You are mindful of him? We are so small, so weak, so flawed, yet he loves us still. I cannot understand such love. And in its wake, as a recipient of such immeasurable graciousness, how can I possibly settle for a religion that is shallow, weak, apathetic, fleshly in its lusts, and requires me to give less than absolutely everything? Look at what He did for me! Would I insult him so, and disregard such love? What hypocrisy is such a pseudo-faith! Far be it from me, oh Lord. I am weak, but You are strong. Help me, Father, to live with urgency and a right perspective of my place: from whence I've come, by Your amazing grace.
"Who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began." (2 Tim 1:9)
All my love, sweet girls,
~Brenna
. . . Coram Deo . . .
"Living before the face of God"
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
A Terrible Story
I finished the book of Judges tonight, reading chapters 17 though 21.
These final chapters don't really advance the chronological timeline of
Israel's history, but rather give us a terrifying glimpse into the moral
depravity of that era. "Chaos" should be the defining word for this
period. As the book closes, we come across what may be the single
most sickening, repulsive story in Scripture; the account of the Levite
and his concubine.
A few things to note:
1) A concubine was a female servant, whose primary purpose was to bear children, thus expanding her master's household and power. Sexual relationships outside of one-man-one-woman-for-life are never condoned in Scripture, and without fail, every time one is mentioned, we are able to observe the heartache and tragedy that accompanies it.
2) Ancient pagan cultures often practiced polygamy (one man with many wives and/or concubines), and its influence infiltrated the Israelites throughout their history. Again, it is always wrong and a sin against God.
3) Women were devalued in the ancient Near-East culture. The advent of Christianity deserves much of the credit for raising women's status above the traditional, devaluing status of household slave. Keep this in mind--as modern liberal feminists tout the "oppression" of Christian gender roles, remember that the age of grace brought to women an increase in the way they were valued.
Back to the story: you are probably familiar with it. It's one we often try not to read aloud, and we might skip over quickly when reading, but it is in Scripture for a reason, it is part of the inspired word of God himself, and it is there for our instruction. First, the unnamed girl, the concubine of a Levite man, ran away from his house, back to her father's home. Don't misinterpret this as an innocent escape. She left---why? To "play the harlot." A harlot is a prostitute. Although we may pity her grisly demise, we must also understand that she condoned, pursued, and participated in acts of sexual wickedness. You reap what you sow, and in many ways, the tragic harlot's death suited the path she had chosen to follow.
After retrieving his runaway concubine, the man and his entourage journey homeward, stopping to rest in the city of Gibeah. Gibeah was not a foreign city; it belonged to the tribe of Benjamin---fellow Israelites to the traveling Levite. Even so, the city proved so debauched that it was no safer than the ancient cities of Sodom and Gomorrah (in fact, this account parallels the Sodom and Gomorrah story very closely, as if to say--look! Things are no better now than they were then!).
In the course of the evening, the Levite's group is taken in by an older man, and sure enough, as night falls, the sickly wicked men of the city came to the house, wanting to have the Levite man handed over to them for homosexual purposes. Wicked yes, but even more repulsing is what the Levite and his host opted to do in such a dire situation...save their own necks by tossing out the concubine girl to the crazed men. The word Scripture uses to describe these men, "Belial," is used in the New Testament as a name for Satan. The men abused the girl all night, and as daylight came, they left her in the street. She dragged herself to the door of the house where her "husband" was snuggled up cozily in his bed, and she died there on the doorstep.
The story goes on to say how he discovered her there and told her to "Get up, and let us be going." My ESV study Bible notes, "the Levite's matter-of-fact reaction to his concubine's death illustrates his callousness." And then, to incense the country over the incident, he butchers her body into twelve pieces and sends a piece to each tribe in Israel. I can't help but wonder if he did this to shift the blame onto the debauchery of the men of Gibeah, and downplay his own responsibility for the crime by tossing her out to save his own skin? It would seem to fit. And, it did work: Israel erupted into a bloody civil war, and the Levite man slinks into obscurity, and is not mentioned again.
Wow, what a terrible story. Instead of diving into the myriad of ways we could extract moral lessons from this story, I want to use it as a marker on your road, to emphasize why it is important for you to understand the purpose, design, and precious value God places on manhood and womanhood. When humanity deviates from his perfect blueprint, chaos ensues and treachery reigns supreme. Don't be duped into believing that our own culture is not so debased as Sodom, Gomorrah, or Gibeah. The specifics may change, but the heart of mankind remains desperately sick and full of darkness.
And, although we like to sympathize with the poor girl in the story, whose pitiful life ended in a nightmare-come-true, we must own up and realize that we are guilty perpetrators of the wickedness around us. When was the last time we poured out our hearts in intercessory prayer for our brothers, near and around the world? When have we taken responsibility for the ominous crusade of feminism that has poisoned our era and crippled our men? When have we admitted that we women are all harlots at heart, desperately in need of a Savior?
It is time. There is no need to despair, no need to crumple in fear. It is time to assess the hardness of our own hearts and the wanton affections that we let reside there, little seeds of destruction that grow and choke our souls. Return to your Savior, precious girls, now while you are young and full of life and energy, now while the compass of your life can still be set. Take joy, take hope, and take up the torch of your noble-hearted sisters throughout history: for, "I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." (Phil 3:13-15)
A few things to note:
1) A concubine was a female servant, whose primary purpose was to bear children, thus expanding her master's household and power. Sexual relationships outside of one-man-one-woman-for-life are never condoned in Scripture, and without fail, every time one is mentioned, we are able to observe the heartache and tragedy that accompanies it.
2) Ancient pagan cultures often practiced polygamy (one man with many wives and/or concubines), and its influence infiltrated the Israelites throughout their history. Again, it is always wrong and a sin against God.
3) Women were devalued in the ancient Near-East culture. The advent of Christianity deserves much of the credit for raising women's status above the traditional, devaluing status of household slave. Keep this in mind--as modern liberal feminists tout the "oppression" of Christian gender roles, remember that the age of grace brought to women an increase in the way they were valued.
Back to the story: you are probably familiar with it. It's one we often try not to read aloud, and we might skip over quickly when reading, but it is in Scripture for a reason, it is part of the inspired word of God himself, and it is there for our instruction. First, the unnamed girl, the concubine of a Levite man, ran away from his house, back to her father's home. Don't misinterpret this as an innocent escape. She left---why? To "play the harlot." A harlot is a prostitute. Although we may pity her grisly demise, we must also understand that she condoned, pursued, and participated in acts of sexual wickedness. You reap what you sow, and in many ways, the tragic harlot's death suited the path she had chosen to follow.
After retrieving his runaway concubine, the man and his entourage journey homeward, stopping to rest in the city of Gibeah. Gibeah was not a foreign city; it belonged to the tribe of Benjamin---fellow Israelites to the traveling Levite. Even so, the city proved so debauched that it was no safer than the ancient cities of Sodom and Gomorrah (in fact, this account parallels the Sodom and Gomorrah story very closely, as if to say--look! Things are no better now than they were then!).
In the course of the evening, the Levite's group is taken in by an older man, and sure enough, as night falls, the sickly wicked men of the city came to the house, wanting to have the Levite man handed over to them for homosexual purposes. Wicked yes, but even more repulsing is what the Levite and his host opted to do in such a dire situation...save their own necks by tossing out the concubine girl to the crazed men. The word Scripture uses to describe these men, "Belial," is used in the New Testament as a name for Satan. The men abused the girl all night, and as daylight came, they left her in the street. She dragged herself to the door of the house where her "husband" was snuggled up cozily in his bed, and she died there on the doorstep.
The story goes on to say how he discovered her there and told her to "Get up, and let us be going." My ESV study Bible notes, "the Levite's matter-of-fact reaction to his concubine's death illustrates his callousness." And then, to incense the country over the incident, he butchers her body into twelve pieces and sends a piece to each tribe in Israel. I can't help but wonder if he did this to shift the blame onto the debauchery of the men of Gibeah, and downplay his own responsibility for the crime by tossing her out to save his own skin? It would seem to fit. And, it did work: Israel erupted into a bloody civil war, and the Levite man slinks into obscurity, and is not mentioned again.
Wow, what a terrible story. Instead of diving into the myriad of ways we could extract moral lessons from this story, I want to use it as a marker on your road, to emphasize why it is important for you to understand the purpose, design, and precious value God places on manhood and womanhood. When humanity deviates from his perfect blueprint, chaos ensues and treachery reigns supreme. Don't be duped into believing that our own culture is not so debased as Sodom, Gomorrah, or Gibeah. The specifics may change, but the heart of mankind remains desperately sick and full of darkness.
And, although we like to sympathize with the poor girl in the story, whose pitiful life ended in a nightmare-come-true, we must own up and realize that we are guilty perpetrators of the wickedness around us. When was the last time we poured out our hearts in intercessory prayer for our brothers, near and around the world? When have we taken responsibility for the ominous crusade of feminism that has poisoned our era and crippled our men? When have we admitted that we women are all harlots at heart, desperately in need of a Savior?
It is time. There is no need to despair, no need to crumple in fear. It is time to assess the hardness of our own hearts and the wanton affections that we let reside there, little seeds of destruction that grow and choke our souls. Return to your Savior, precious girls, now while you are young and full of life and energy, now while the compass of your life can still be set. Take joy, take hope, and take up the torch of your noble-hearted sisters throughout history: for, "I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." (Phil 3:13-15)
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