Your words…

After dismissing the crowds, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray. When evening came, He was there alone. But the boat was already over a mile from land, battered by the waves because the wind was against them. Around three in the morning, He came to them, walking on the sea.  Matt. 14:23-25

My words…

There is nothing that I take more seriously than my salvation in You, Lord. Your death and resurrection were the culmination of God’s plan of love for me, and I am grateful every day of my life. Having written that, I have been thinking lately about having fun. Not my fun. Your fun.

Jesus, I know You must have experienced bouts of fun, even hilarity, while wearing human skin. But I don’t read much about that in scripture. I get it. You came to seek and save the lost—serious business indeed. But there are times, reading between the lines, when You must have cracked up!

Creation must have been amusing for You. How could You have created the giraffe, peacock, and proboscis monkey without busting out laughing?

I bet James and John shared some funny fishing jokes. One or more of Your disciples could throw out a witty impersonation, certainly. And the children who flocked around You must have provided lively entertainment.

You performed miracles to reflect the glory of God and pour Your love and compassion on the hurting, but they had to be fun as well. After healing a lame man, You must have chuckled as he jumped, danced, and attempted a cartwheel. Walking on water in the middle of the night— the epitome of fun!

You were so abominably treated while on earth, I hope You found time to belly laugh with Your friends. I don’t like to think of You as intensely stoic as You are sometimes portrayed. You created humor. Some people are so good at making others laugh. It wouldn’t surprise me if You were one.

Your words…

Why do My people claim, “We will go where we want; we will no longer come to You?” Can a young woman forget her jewelry or a bride her wedding sash? Yet My people have forgotten Me for countless days.” Jeremiah 2:31b-32

My words…

Some things are not meant to be forgotten. I’ve never seen a bride walk down the aisle in her bath robe because she forgot to bring her dress. A lioness does not forget to feed her young. The rain does not forget to fall. Migration does not slip the mind of the hummingbird.

You, Lord, are not meant to be forgotten.

You, who rides on the clouds and works wonders, whose sanctuary is filled with strength and beauty, who will bring every hidden thing to judgment. You, who rises up to show compassion, who calls the starry host by name, who stirs up the sea so its waves roar. You, who established the world by His wisdom and spread out the heavens by His understanding, who holds my life breath in His hand, who makes the dawn out of darkness and strides on the heights of the earth.

Yahweh is Your name. Never to be forgotten.

And yet…

You were forgotten in an age long ago by Your chosen people. You are forgotten now in this age. Just because You’re God doesn’t mean You’ve grown accustomed to it. That’s what I think, anyway.

I consider how it feels to be forgotten: broken-hearted, worthless, hollow.

“How could anyone forget You?” I say. “How could anyone make You feel that way?” Oh, I see. It’s done when someone wants to go where they want and do what they want without regard to You or Your instructions.

Hmmm. This sounds vaguely familiar. How many times have I gone my own way without regard to You or what Your will is for me? The truth is, I put You out of my mind. I forgot You. And like the Israelites, I did it for countless days. Then, repentance and forgiveness followed: a precious reminder why You should never be forgotten.

Lord, I pray for those who have forgotten You. Your love for them is not affected by their forgetfulness because You can’t help Yourself. You are love. Send them reminders, Lord, so the countless days will come to an end.

It bothers me when I think of You as forgotten. As surely as the earth spins on its axis, so should the created be constantly mindful of its Creator. Well, that’s the way it should be, anyway.

Your words…

Then Peter was filled with the Holy Spirit and said to them, “Rulers of the people and elders: If we are being examined today about a good deed done to a disabled man—by what means he was healed—let it be known to all of you and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene—whom you crucified and whom God raised from the dead—by Him this man is standing here before you healthy. This Jesus is the stone rejected by you builders, which has become the cornerstone. There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to people, and we must be saved by it.” When they observed the boldness of Peter and John and realized they were uneducated and untrained men, they were amazed and recognized they had been with Jesus.  Acts 4:8-13

My words…

Jesus, You must be so proud of Peter! He may have stumbled during Your trial, denying he even knew You, but once the Spirit took hold, he was off and running. The gumption he exhibited during his short walk with You on the waters of Galilee resurfaced in the face of Israel’s leaders. He did not own the caliber of resumé they would have expected for one who preached heart-piercing sermons and miraculously healed the afflicted. His professional credentials would have read something like this:

Decades of experience navigating the waters of the Sea of Galilee in a family-owned business, fishing expert, proficient in net mending, team leader and mentor.

Without a Master in Divinity or a PhD in Biblical Studies, Peter stood toe-to-toe with the literate and lofty teachers of the law. For good measure, he threw in a reminder of who had killed the Son of God (You guys!) before He was raised from the dead! (Go Peter!) The leaders stood there with furrowed brows. There was something about Peter that reminded them of…that’s it! Jesus! They recognized You in Peter. He may not have had letters after his name, but Peter had “Jesus creds”—the rightful terminal degree.

Peter’s bold, practical, life-changing message was a result of hours, days and years spent in the presence of You—Master Teacher, Prince of Peace, Consolation of Israel. Peter listened. Peter learned. Peter grew. That’s what happens to people who spend a lot of time with You, Jesus.

Over the years, I have come to recognize those who have earned Jesus creds. They possess a visible inner peace. They never boast about themselves. They smile—a lot. They don’t crumble when life gets tough. They have a bible handy, and they read it. To them, worrying is a waste of time and energy. They recognize evil when others do not. They praise You for their accomplishments. They don’t love money. When they sin, they seek forgiveness.

I pray, Lord, I will seek to spend more time with You. I pray to live out my ministry with boldness so others will recognize I have been with You. There is no higher honor.

Your words…

Look at how great a love the Father has given us that we should be called God’s children. And we are!  1 John 3:1

Both the One who makes people holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters. Hebrews 2:11

My words…

Father God, since I can’t fathom your fullness, all the boundless traits that make up who You are, neither can I comprehend my place as Your child. It’s a truth I know in my mind but one which resides with the birth of a star, the depths of the ocean, the splitting of the Red Sea, the migration path of the bar-tailed godwits, and the resurrection of Your Son—too magnificent to take in. But my feeble spirit endeavors all the same. Indeed, I am a child of  the One who is love, the King over all the earth, the God who performs wonders, the righteous judge. My earthly family status matters not; I am not a celebrity or a child of one. I hold no important social position. But in the heavenly realms, I am rather important, aren’t I? And it’s only because of Your love for me.

Prayer for Your children….

Like all fathers, You have suffered disappointment at the hands of Your children. We are a rebellious lot. We come and go in our devotion to You. In the face of Your instruction, we throw the occasional tantrum and stomp our feet. When we don’t get what we want when we want, we pout. Worse yet, we storm out. I know, for myself, I have acted like a spoiled brat many times, taking for granted my position within Your kingdom. Forgive my inexcusable pride and ingratitude. Praise be to my Father who lovingly claims me as His child even when I don’t act like it.

More praise…

As Your child, I am a member of a huge family. The heroes of faith I read about in scripture are all my siblings as are Your devoted followers over the centuries. And wonder of wonders—Jesus, You are my brother. I can’t wait for this family reunion!

Your words…

Do not quench the Spirit. Do not treat prophesies with contempt but test them all; hold on to what is good, reject every kind of evil.  1 Thessalonians 5:19-20

And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.  Ephesians 4:30

My words…

Praise

Spirit of the Living God, You are the holy voltage I rely on to energize my spirit to reflect Jesus in my world. When I live in the blessed assurance of God’s love and presence, it is Your power on display, not mine. I live daily in the glow of God’s radiance because of You. You are like a fire, hot and bright and oh so powerful.

Prayer for me

In my weakness, I may figuratively pour water on Your holy fire:

“I can’t be expected to forgive a sin that grievous. No way.” Douse

“I have helped that family enough. Someone else should take a turn.” Splash

“Bible study? Not today. I’ll start tomorrow (or the next day).” Soak

“It’s not gossip. It’s the facts. Right?” Smother

“I can’t be expected to love every neighbor.” Splatter

When this happens, You, Spirit, are not weakened. You are grieved.

Forgive me

I don’t like to think I am responsible for grieving the Spirit of the Living God, the maker of heaven and earth, but I am. I don’t like the way it makes me feel. (You at work, yet again!) When I sadden You, I cause You pain. And this, in turn, causes me pain. Great pain. So, I ask for Your unending forgiveness by which I am then clean, pain-free, and so grateful.

More praise

Holy Spirit, You are holy fire, breath of God, my comforter, teacher, counselor, strengthener. Is there another person in heaven or on earth who can rival who You are or what You do? No. There is not.

Your words…

“For I, the Lord, do not change…”  Malachi 3:6a

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.  Hebrews 13:8

My words…

Of all Your characteristics, Lord, this one is the most comforting to me. You never change. Never have. Never will. Your creation, however, changes from one nano-second to the next. Nothing stays the same. My whole existence is based on change. Get that avocado to guacamole before it’s too late. The price of gas went up again. Oh, look, another gray hair (or three). And that’s just the innocuous stuff.

It’s hard to keep up sometimes, which is why I draw a contented sigh when I turn to You and Your words. I know what I can expect from one day to the next. There You are. The same yesterday, today and forever.

Your compassion to Hannah, the distraught, barren woman yearning for a child three thousand years ago is the same compassion shown to the woman in Nain when you raised her son from the dead two thousand years ago. And it’s the same compassion you showed to my grieving friend last year. Same compassion. Same God.

Your righteousness is manifested when You keep Your promises to Your creation. The promises You made to Noah, Abraham, and Peter are just as binding as the ones You make to me. You never go back on Your word. Same righteousness. Same God.

Your justice, what You do to restore righteousness, shone brightly in Egypt with Joseph and in Persia with Esther. Those who exploit the weak and abuse the defenseless today will have to answer for their actions. Every last one of them. Same justice. Same God.

Your forgiveness and mercy poured out on the adulterer and murderer, King David, is freely given to any who asks today. Same forgiveness and mercy. Same God.

And Your love—the love that started it all before the beginning of time when You chose to show Your love to me through Your Son, a cross, and an indwelling comforter. Same love. Same God.

Mushy avocados aside, I’m thankful you created me to be a part of a world that always changes. And I am even more thankful You don’t.

Your words…

I will meditate on Your precepts and think about your ways. Psalm 119:15

My words…

I have discovered the best way to know you, God, is to know Your precepts and Your ways—to spend time, time, and more time reading scripture, listening to wise biblical teaching, and thinking about what You do and why. It’s a deep well. After a few decades, I have learned some truths, not only about You, but about me. And it’s all because…

…the more time I spend with You…

• the more patient I am with others.

• the more I crave wisdom.

• the more I discern evil around me.

• the less I care about money.

• the more I see you in nature (even in the cicadas!).

• the more honest I am with You.

• the more I appreciate solitude.

• the more I recognize my selfishness.

• the more I understand the absolute necessity of prayer.

• the more I notice how alike we are.

• the more I notice how different we are.

• the more I love You.

A deep, deep well.

Your words…

Know that the Lord has set apart the faithful for Himself; The Lord will hear when I call to Him. Be angry and do not sin; on Your bed, reflect in Your heart and be still.  Psalm 4:3-4

Yahweh, I remember Your name in the night, and I obey Your instruction. This is my practice: I obey Your precepts. Psalm 119:55-56

My words…

My bed pillow and I spend a lot of time together—at least nine hours a night, sometimes more. But our time together may not involve sleep. Most nights, I struggle to shake off the cares of my life and drift into peaceful slumber. Minutes of insomnia evolve into hours. Frustration mounts. I sigh. I toss. I consider a trip to the frig. And then, like the Psalmist, I remember You. I think about what you’re doing at that very moment. You’re not sleeping either. May as well spend some quality time together. I wish I could say our nighttime chats were life-changing epiphanies and visions of the heavenly realm featuring the Seraphim and Cherubim. Instead, they’re the ramblings of a person in need of sleep. Remember these gems?

*Jesus, if You were to show up in my hometown, would You invite Yourself to my house for lunch like You did to Zacchaeus? Would I have to climb a tree first? (These are serious issues at 3 a.m.)

*Is it all right if I hate Satan and refuse to forgive him? (We’re still working on this one.)

*John writes that You have gone to prepare a place for me somewhere I can’t see. Would you mind sending me a glimpse? (It’s not that I don’t trust Your taste. Just curious.)

*What is dark matter? Never mind. I think it’s cool that only You know. (I hope it stays that way.)

*Dinosaurs? Really?

I know for a fact the Psalmist never posed this sort of mess to You at night. But I also know that mess results in a small revelation from You. It may be a message of comfort I recall from scripture. (The Angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear Him.) Or it may be a sense of calm. (Everything will be all right.) You don’t seem to mind that I sound more like a four-year-old than a grown-up. For that, I am grateful.

Thank You, Lord, for the night. I don’t like the dark. It’s when the coyotes cry and the police sirens wail. But without the night, I’m afraid I would not (or could not) spend hours on end with You. You are my Light in the night. Dare I say, Night Light?

Your words…

For the High and Holy One who lives forever, whose name is holy, says this: “I live in a high and holy place and with the oppressed and lowly of spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and revive the heart of the oppressed.  Isaiah 57:15

Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted. Matthew 23:12

So, it is a sin for the person who knows to do what is good and doesn’t do it. James 4:17

My words…

A Prayer of Repentance

I wish I didn’t have to pray about sin. I would prefer to pray about sunbeams, chocolate cake, and butterfly kisses; unfortunately, those delights do not describe the state of my spirit. Not today. When I read Your words, I first ask You to teach me what You want me to learn. This week, You have been clearly leading me toward repentance. I asked. You showed me. I often pray for forgiveness in a broad sense, like fish caught in a net. You undoubtedly forgive me, and the fish swim away. Bye-bye sins. But You want me to honestly consider my thoughts and actions and lay them alongside Your will for me. Do they match up? Not lately.

My sins are not fish in a net. They are individual transgressions against You, none worse than the other, but each intentional. I sin on purpose. (May we pause for a slice of cake? No?) These words are hard to write, hard to admit. At this point along the path, I should be strong enough to keep Your spiritual armor in place at all times. I should. But it slips when I know to do good and don’t. It falls to the ground when I know the wrong and do it anyway.

So where does this leave me? On my knees. Heartbroken. Tearful. Guilty.

Here’s the good part: (With You there’s always a good part.) When I am on my knees, humble and lowly, I am with You in a high and holy place. I can’t see it with my hazel eyes. It’s a special, invisible place where I am revived in spirit and lifted to my feet to stand again.

Refreshed. Renewed. Exalted. Forgiven.

Sadly, I’ll sin again. But You never minded hanging out with sinners. Thank You, God.

Your words…

In the evening of that first day of the week, the disciples were fathered together with the doors locked because of their fear of the Jews. Then Jesus came, stood among them, and said to them, “Peace to you!” Having said this, He showed them His hands and His side. So the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. But Thomas was not with them when Jesus came. After eight days, His disciples were indoors again, and Thomas was with them. Even though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them. He said, “Peace to you!”  John 20:19-20, 24, 26

My words…

Following Your death, Jesus, Your disciples huddled in a locked room, fearing those responsible for killing You. Weighed down by grief, guilt, and confusion, they sought comfort in each other’s company. Questions without answers caromed off the walls.

And then, there You were. As if a locked door could keep You out. (Nice move, by the way!) The disciples did not comprehend that You had dismantled everything they knew about death. They weren’t thinking about death at all. You were in the room! Alive and speaking!

“Peace to you!” A perfect greeting, undoubtedly one they had heard You speak a hundred times on a hundred different occasions. Peace. Before You showed up, peace was woefully absent in the room. You spoke it into existence, just as You did at creation when You said, “Let there be light.”

Peace crowded out grief. Peace squashed guilt. It eclipsed confusion. A good thing since what You had planned for them could not be accomplished under such a cloud. Then, You repeated this scene since Thomas missed it the first time.

Your peace empowered the disciples to unlock the door. When they did, fear waiting to enter was overpowered by Your peace breaking out. They went out proclaiming Your peace so believers would never look at death the same again. I know I don’t.

I pray You step inside locked rooms (hearts) of those who are fearful of what lay outside the door. Fill them with Your peace, the by-product when death’s shackles are snapped by the Son of God.