Category Archives: God speaks

God speaks

City of refuge

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I’ve been reading in the Old Testament. Lately, in the book of Numbers. Have you read it? It’s really just as exciting as it sounds. I pretty much read because it’s part of my reading plan and when I’m done, I can check that off my list of things to do.

Today’s nugget from Numbers chapter 35… If you happen to kill someone by accident, like dropping a stone on them (it’s in there, really), you do not have to die as payment for your transgression. But you do have to move to a city of refuge, and live there until the high priest dies. So, not so bad.

Believe it or not, God actually spoke to me through this passage of Scripture. I have not killed anyone, but I’ve been feeling a lot of guilt lately because I have this temper that seems to ride very close to the surface, and I can’t seem to control it. It strikes before I can tame it, and apologies and explanations don’t fully repair the damage. Nor do they remove the guilt. But the good news is that God is a merciful God, and full of grace. Grace is not something we have to earn. It’s just there. And if we go looking for it we are guaranteed to find it. And it will be like a city of refuge.

Bam. That was all it was. It’s not very complicated, I know, but it hit me hard, so I had to share.

God speaks

Pathetic whiners

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This morning I was reading my daily Scriptures (with my new electronics lap-pad, courtesy of my thoughtful husband), and a story in the book of Numbers gave me pause. It’s in chapter 14, where the Israelites have just seen what they are up against, and are reacting to it. They see these people who are much larger than they are, and they “seemed like grasshoppers” to them. So, seeing this enormous challenge ahead of them, they cried all night, and then “grumbled” to Moses and Aaron, telling them they wished they had died in Egypt or the wilderness.

Stop right here. This sounds so familiar. I have been here. I have felt small and helpless. In the past year I  have faced enormous challenges and have felt like I wanted to go back to the way things were. But the way things were… busting my butt working full time and going to school and neglecting time with family and friends in the process… that was my Egypt. That was a spiritual and emotional wilderness. Why on earth would I want to go back?

Why indeed? The Israelites are asking why, but it’s a different “why”. They are asking why God is bringing them into a new land, only to let them be killed.  They are asking if it wouldn’t be better for them to go back. (Meanwhile I ask, why would God allow me to lose my hearing and vision? Wouldn’t it be better if I was healed and went back to work?) Some of the men  tried to reassure the Israelites that the land was “flowing with milk and honey” and that the  men occupying the land had been stripped of their strength, because God wants to protect them and give them the abundant land. God WANTS to bless them, and therefore he has removed all obstacles, whether the Israelites can see it or not.

When I look back now at the challenges I’ve faced, I see clearly that God went ahead of me and removed the obstacles that would have otherwise stood in my way, and that I am now in a land flowing with milk and honey.  When I read these Old Testament stories, it always amazes me  how forgetful the Israelites were, that they would complain and doubt God after all He delivered them from, but then I realize I do that. In fact, we ALL do that. All these generations later, we are still the same pathetic whiners. And yet God is also still the same: slow to anger, and full of mercy and love. Patient, merciful, loving. Let’s chew on that for awhile, shall we?

Books, Deafness, God speaks

On healing and cardboard boxes

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I have been reading a wonderful book written by Joni Eareckson-Tada called “A Place of Healing: Wrestling with the Mysteries of Suffering, Pain, and God’s Sovereignty”. If you haven’t heard of Joni, I’ll give a brief background. She is an accomplished author and advocate for the disabled. She  sings and paints and hosts a radio show. What is so remarkable about this is that she was in a diving accident in 1967, at the age of 17, and has been a quadriplegic ever since. Her entire adult existence spent in a wheelchair, completely dependent on others. And yet she lives and breathes and inspires others to do the same (you know, to live).

Joni talks about the issue of divine healing. I know God can heal, and I have prayed countless times for it. Yet physical healing hasn’t happened for me. And some Christians will try to say if you’re not healed it’s because of a secret sin, or lack of faith. I’m here to declare that’s horse dookie. God will heal me, in His time.

Besides, if He isn’t healing me now, I trust that it is for a purpose. What that is exactly, I can only speculate. In fact, I believe God shared some of it with me today, through Joni’s book. She was describing the great analogy of the treasures in jars of clay, or in modern terms, gifts in a cardboard box. The box is just what holds the gift. It does not need to be fancy or even well-made. In fact, the more beat up the box looks, the more the gift inside will stand out. Do you see? Light shining through the dark, a gift glowing out of a cardboard box. The plainer the packaging, the brighter the light shines.

So I can understand why God has allowed my ears and eyes to fail. My disability brought me home, and gave me the gift of time. Time to give to my family and friends and ultimately, to God. That gift of time is the shining light in the darkness of hearing and vision loss. If the latter were the means to that end, I am thankful for all of it.

God speaks, Housekeeping, Motherhood

Hospitableness

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One thing I am learning (albeit slowly and perhaps reluctantly) is that when God wants to get a message to me, He will use repetition. So when I come across the same message two days in a row, I start to take it to heart.

Yesterday at church our pastor talked a lot about hospitality and making others feel welcome. He gave a great example, reading the Bible story of Levi, the tax collector. Levi was so excited to meet Jesus that he immediately left his post and followed him. Then, he threw a party to gather all of his fellow tax collectors so they could meet Jesus too.

I was touched by this story, because lately I’ve been feeling a stirring in my heart and wishing I was more like this. More open and inviting, more courageous when it comes to sharing with others how amazing it is to know and interact with my Lord (not to be selfish, He can be yours too, of course).

And then we went home and got tangled up in the crazy busyness of life. Again. But God, being so gracious, brought me back to this lesson first thing this morning. As I sat down to drink my coffee and read my daily Scriptures, I caught the subject of my daily Upper Room Devotional email: “Welcome a Stranger”.

Sometimes these sorts of things are pure coincidence, or maybe just a case of the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon, but I like to think of them as reminders from God.

I am certainly not the most hospitable person you know. It is not my gifting. However, in the past 12 months I have found myself thrust into a new life. I never thought I could enjoy staying at home, but I am embracing it. So far this new role has included housecleaning, cooking, keeping track of kids and their schoolwork, and scheduling. I believe all of it is important, and am determined to give it my 100% effort. And I suppose if God is trying to tell me we can add some hospitality to the mix, I’m all ears (pun intended).

God speaks, Vacation

Abbey Trip 2014

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I have just returned from my annual trip with my sister to an Episcopalian monastery. This was our 4th trip together, but I started going there more than a decade ago, and I’ve lost count how many times I’ve been. It’s truly a time of rest and renewal for us. I did some journaling, but not as much as I would have liked. And since I didn’t bring my laptop, I just wrote it down. No filter, no edits. So what follows here is exactly what I wrote. Reading my writing on a white piece of paper is physically exhausting for me to do, so pardon me if I don’t feel like reading through again and “perfecting” it. Whether it sounds good or not, it’s all true.

Friday:

We made it to the Abbey. I’m teetering on the brink of a flood of tears. Mixed metaphors, I know. I just have all this sadness built up. I think that’s why I keep getting so frustrated, and Mike keeps asking me what is wrong. I always say it’s nothing, but that’s a colossal lie. I am sad and scared. Not angry, because I don’t know who to be angry at. Just really scared for my future, and sad for what I am missing, like pictures Natalie draws for me. And not being able to really see my surroundings. That frustrates me – constantly. If it were all gone, if I couldn’t see any of it, maybe the frustration wouldn’t be there. Because I wouldn’t be subconsciously trying to see it all. Maybe. Not that I’m wishing for that. That is maybe what scares me the most. Losing my eyesight completely. Losing the ability to see my family’s faces and watch my kids grow.

Well, I let the tears fall, and it didn’t end in a sob-fest. I’m sure there are more to come, but for now I feel like I can breathe again. This is good, writing. I didn’t bring the laptop so this is all I’ve got. It’s slower, and harder to read, but I guess that’s good as it allows me time to let my thoughts come through. Clearly.

I need to eat.

We went to Vespers and Mass already. Had lunch, went to buy chicken and steak. Not in that order. I took a nap too. I can’t believe I forgot the steak! This weekend seems cursed. There was a huge accident on the way here that prevented us from getting onto I-94 – cranes had to be used to move the semi trucks. But we are taking the curse in stride. This past year has dealt us both a shitty hand, but we are determined to make the best of it, despite the obstacles.

Just like this weekend.

10 pm: Heading to bed! Will be up at 3:30 am for the 4 am Matins service. Good day 🙂

Saturday:

Was up at 3:30 am for Matins (thanks to 3 cups of coffee the night before, I woke up all on my own. Slept from 10 pm to 12:30 am, and then every hour after that. Not too bad. Then went back to sleep after Matins, and woke up to the smell of bacon (for the quiche), just in time for 8:15 Mass. And yes, they do communion on Saturday.

I’m not sure what to do with myself at this point. I want to make the best of this time, but I want to get rest and relax too.

Next weekend we go camping with the church. I’ll definitely have to make grocery lists and catch up on laundry before then. I’ll wait to do that when I get back home. Because Mike likely would have bought some food. And what fun is coming to the Abbey to make grocery lists?

Now – coffee. Read.

It’s our last night, and after finally beating Kari (just barely) at Spite and Malice, we are heading to bed at 10:50 pm. Tomorrow is Sunday, so Matins isn’t until 5:30 am. Kind of like sleeping in.

Today was a humid day, and my hair shows it. Do you ever catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and gasp? That just happened here. Think Gene Wilder and that comes pretty close. Compounding the issue is all the short wispy hairs I have from the regrowth of the hair I lost when I was on steroids last year.

Ah, I forgot to mention we went to tea time to mingle with the monks. Prior Aelred greeted me first with a big hug and said “can you hear me now?” I love his sense of humor and compassion. He has been following my updates on Facebook and has given me lots of encouragement along the way. It’s always good to see him.

I miss Mike. It’s been a good trip, but I’ll be glad to be home. Of course, I miss the kids too. It will be so great to see them again too.

God speaks, Kids, Multiple Sclerosis

Morning snippet

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Psalm 38:15 “But for you, O Lord, do I wait; it is you, O Lord my God, who will answer.”

Oh boy, do I wait.

I hate waiting, but yet I also hate to be rushed. I suppose I should give God the same courtesy I would want. I won’t try to rush Him. He will heal my eyes, in His own perfect time.

Until then, I must relish the good and take joy in what I have now. I am loving spending time with my kids this summer. We have taken walks together, played at the playground, gone camping, ate ice cream, built forts, danced around the living room. They return to school in a little over a week, and things will change all over again. I’m not sure I’m ready, but it’s okay because we take things one day at a time around here. And anything that can be done in a day can’t be that overwhelming, right?

 

 

God speaks

The Bible is so old

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As I ponder my condition and worry if or when I will ever regain my vision, I am continually reminded of the truth. God whispers in my ear and reassures me that this life on earth is so short compared to the eternity I will spend with Him. And those will be the days when I will see with fully functioning eyes and I will never again grow weary.

Just this morning, and again this afternoon, God has shown me simple scriptures to remind me of this. There are so many. And they are all so old. Think of how many people have read these words over the decades, centuries even, and have struggled with illness and pain, loss of hearing and vision, and were continually comforted by these words. I am not the first to struggle, and I certainly won’t be the last. But, I can rest assured in the knowledge that God has been down this road before, countless times, and He’s got my back.

God speaks, Kids

Be brave

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A friend told me once that boys really do a lot of changing around the age of 7, as they start wanting to emulate their dads and other male role models.

I see this in my son. He is just now showing a bit of discomfort with being the “small” kid, but I think he is handling it well. The other night he wanted to read to me from his old preschooler’s Bible. In particular, he wanted to read about the guy who fought a lion with his bare hands, and the kid who fought the giant. So I found the stories of Samson and the lion, and David and Goliath, and he read them eagerly. I asked what his favorite part was about each story, and for both he said his favorite was that they were brave. He really connected with Samson and David, knowing that they were each small in comparison to their opponents, but that it didn’t matter. They were brave and God was with them. Just like God is with him.

I do hope that he carries these stories, and others like them, with them as he grows up. I know what it was like to be the smallest kid, the last one picked for dodgeball. It sucked, and I still have remnants of that mindset. Those fears held me back well into my thirties. I don’t want that to be the case for my kids. I want them to know that God is with them, so they can walk into every situation life throws at them with bravery and confidence. Just like Samson and David.

God speaks, Miracles do happen, Multiple Sclerosis

Healing the blind

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Matthew 9:27-31: “And as Jesus passed on from there, two blind men followed him, crying aloud, ‘Have mercy on us, Son of David.’ When he entered the house, the blind men came to him, and Jesus said to them, ‘Do you believe that I am able to do this?’ They said to him, ‘Yes, Lord.’ Then he touched their eyes, saying, ‘According to your faith be it done to you.’ And their eyes were opened. And Jesus sternly warned them, ‘See that no one knows about it.’ But they went away and spread his fame through all that district.”

I read a lot of these stories in the Bible, the stories of Jesus or his disciples healing the sick. And I have to be honest, it especially pains me to read the stories of the blind being healed. In some ways it’s jealousy, that that type of healing hasn’t happened for me (yet??), but in other ways it serves as a good reminder that Jesus CAN heal me. Believe me, I know it’s entirely possible (if not more likely) that complete healing may not come until I am ushered through the pearly gates. But that doesn’t seem to provide much reassurance. I have moments of peace about my crummy vision, and even my hearing loss, but they are just that: Moments. Some last longer than others, and I am thankful for those. Those are the times I am either really focused on connecting with God, or focused on the people I am with. Sometimes it’s both.

Today I am kind of in the middle. A little melancholy, a little at peace, but very thankful to be alive. Someday my day will come, and my eyes will be opened. Here’s to the hope that it will come sooner rather than later.

God speaks

Perspective

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If you’ve heard the story of the Israelites wandering in the desert for 40 years, you probably remember it as a punishment of sorts. Those stubborn Israelites, not trusting God, and suffering for decades because of it. We often sympathize with the Israelites. That’s how the story is generally used, as an example and admonishment to not be like the Israelites.

When I read this passage today I noticed it was told from the other side of the story. From God’s perspective. It made me chuckle.

Acts 13:17-18 – “The God of this people Israel chose our fathers and made the people great during their stay in the land of Egypt, and with uplifted arm he led them out of it. And for about forty years he put up with them in the wilderness.”

1) “During their stay” makes it sound like a vacation, doesn’t it? I have no deep insight here, I just thought it was funny.

2) God “put up with them”. Yes, because I’m sure they did not go 40 years without complaining. If you are a parent, you undoubtedly know what it’s like to put up with an ungrateful child complaining that they aren’t getting what they want or need (according to their childish understanding). It’s aggravating at best. It’s frustrating because there isn’t much you can do, other than let them work through it on their own, and hope that they eventually come to a point where they realize and become grateful for what they do have.

Sadly, some kids don’t ever get there, to that place of gratitude. Or they get there, and they forget. I have lost count of how many times I’ve been there and forgotten. I’m kind of getting back there now, again. I don’t want to be that child who God has to put up with. I want to be thankful. I want to see the streams in the desert. I want to make the most of life during my stay. I am in the desert, but God is with me here, and holds my future. For that, I am grateful.