There's Just Something About That Name

As I was reading through some posts on Facebook, I came across one in which the author said, "I just love saying the name of Jesus!" As I read that, my heart was touched, and I started to wonder how long it had been since I felt that way myself. I remember the power and assurance and faith that just saying His name evoked in me. Nothing was impossible and no fear too threatening and no night too dark. There is power in His name, and how easily I have allowed myself to be burdened with the challenges of life and have forgotten that power.

I began to sing, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, there's just something about that name. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, like the fragrance after the rain. Kings and kingdoms will all pass away, but there's something about that Name." I felt His calming peace come over me again as my anxieties drained away. So simple, so easy, so peaceful. There is something about His name!

Thank You, Jesus, for being the Name above all names!

The Problem with Truth

I used to think that truth could only be truth if it were the same for everyone. And, of course, the truth I knew was the truth! In fact, a pastor once said, "In order for truth to be truth, it must be true for all people in all places at all times." When I heard those words, I thought them profound and began to repeat them in any situation that challenged what I knew to be truth. It felt comforting and further settled me into my established line of reasoning.

Then I found out that there are over 3,000 Christian sects in the world . . . all claiming to have the truth!! And that doesn't even include the Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims or any other flavor of religion!! What a shocker!!!! How could all of these people, sincere, seekers of God, wanting to follow the truth, all come up with different truths, all claiming to hear from God??

Just recently it occurred to me that God isn't showing the same truth to everyone. Wow!! What is that about? It would be sooooooo much easier on all of us if He did.

So, now what? I must follow what I know as truth until God reveals something else. Further, I must also allow that He is showing others something else as true. What a challenge that is! I'm so used to insisting that I'm right! (What an opportunity to love others!)

This is my bottom line - God is Who He says He is; He is love personified; He keeps His promises; He has a good future planned for all of us; He never fails or gives up. I could add more, but you get the idea. The rest I just have to give to Him and let Him sort it out.

By the way, I've been sprinkled and dunked, just in case!

Love

I'm a "johnny-come-lately" for some of the dramatic series that are available on TV, and one of my recent enjoyments is reruns of Grey's Anatomy. If you've not seen the program, it's your typical medical drama that seems to focus more on the personal relationships between the doctors than anything medical going on. Last night was an exception to the rule. One of the vignettes focused on a man and woman, unrelated, one black, male and older, one white, female and younger. The two had been in a train wreck and were impaled on a pole facing each other. Both were conscious and in no pain, amazingly. As the story unfolds, the doctors discover that, of the two, the male has a much better chance of survival. Once the pole is removed, the female will bleed out too quickly to save, and she is more seriously injured.

The two patients begin to interact with each other as the doctors do their assessments. They are in a hugging position in order to keep the pole from shifting and doing more harm. As the doctors tell them the bad news, both of them begin to plead for the other's life, not for their own. The female winds up comforting the man when the reality of the situation is finally accepted. She will die and he will live. Later, just before the man and woman are put under anesthesia, she leaves a message with the head surgeon to relay to her husband when he arrives. She knows that she will be gone before he gets there. The surgeon tells the husband later, "She wanted you to know that, if love were enough, she would be here with you now."

I almost sobbed through the show. I was so touched by the complete selflessness of this woman. Her concerns were for the man attached to her on the pole, and her husband. She expressed no regrets for herself, and pleaded for her fellow victim. She knew this man for minutes and hours, not days, weeks or years. She gave without thinking and thought only for the comfort of her husband and this man in front of her. What an incredible example of the love of God! Selfless love. Self-sacrificing love. Not ooey-gooey emotions - just the rubber hitting the road.

I envy that kind of love. I envy the ability to give so freely - to give all - to sacrifice even though it cost everything. I over-analyze, and worry about consequences. I think too much about the cost. Few of us will ever be called to such a sacrifice as this woman made, or that Jesus made. I'm called to love the people that are in my life and that I encounter every day in my life. I get testy at other drivers and waiting in line, or things just aren't going the way that I want them to go.

Worse, I remember those whom I've failed to love - harsh words, uncaring deeds. My mother is a constant source of regret. She was mentally ill long before I was born. Life was hard growing up, and I focused far too much on how it affected me, and not nearly enough on how it affected her. Mental illness is a terrible burden to carry. There were five of us kids, and I know that she did the best that she could. It wasn't her fault that her love wasn't enough. She died almost 20 years ago, and all I can remember now is how she suffered with the burden she carried. I didn't know much about love then, but I do now. I have been the recipient of much self-sacrificing love. I cannot undo the past or re-write it. However, I am grateful beyond grateful that she is at peace now, and she knows love now too.

Losing a Parent

A dear friend's dad passed away in October. Another friend lost her mom just this last week. Other friends have shared about their aging parents and the decline that is occurring in them. I realized that I have entered this season of life in which my friends are starting to lose their parents. My heart aches for them and there are no words to comfort someone who has just become, in a very real way, an orphan.

My parents died when I was much younger - my dad when he was 49 and my mom at 67. I never really knew them or had the opportunity to develop a significant attachment to either of them. For the most part, my friends have meaningful relationships with their parents, and I know the loss they are experiencing is profound. I can't take away their pain. I pray and ask how they are doing and offer what little comfort I can. I am still praying . . . .

Lent

So here we are in the Lenten season. I've been more interested in Fat Tuesday and Mardi Gras, frankly. When I was a kid, I lived in a suburb of New Orleans for 4 years and looked forward to the parades and time off from school. I don't like jelly donuts, so I passed on the "punchkies." I like the party and celebration part better though, and not the ashes and "what are you giving up for Lent?" Also, I've never been a part of a local church that acknowledges anything other than Good Friday and Easter, so I've never given much, or any thought really, to giving up anything for Lent.
I was at the chiropractor the other day and someone said that they needed to find something for their husband to give up for Lent. She was thinking of the typical treat or "sinful" pleasure like chocolate or beer. I asked her a little about his personality, and she freely shared. I don't think this was my idea, but I heard myself asking her, "what about giving up taking offense?" She paused, surprised, raised her eyebrows and said, "Perfect! That's what I'll do." While I questioned any possible success at getting someone else to "give up" something at all, let alone something so unconscious and automatic, I wished her well.
Interestingly, I started thinking about the subject of taking offense, and how many times I take offense at so many little things - too many to list, if you know what I mean. So . . . I thought about giving up taking offense, not just for Lent, but permanently, for life. How many people would be set free from my judgments and need for things to always go my way? How free would I be to be at peace myself and be generous in my acceptance?
Since that day, I have been noticing, and mostly choosing, to let it go. That guy in front of me didn't intentionally cut me off in traffic and the pharmacist didn't intentionally keep me waiting - you get the idea. What an eye-opener! I also discovered how many times and in how many situations I judge myself. I am most offended by me. That may sound odd, or you may identify. Jesus was no dummy when He talked about our loving others as we do ourselves. If we are loving others poorly, we are probably not doing much of a job of loving ourselves. I am most judgmental when I am least happy with me.
So what's the answer? After all my musings, I realize that there is only one - His name is Jesus. Only He can transform me. I'm trusting Him to transform me as He has promised to do. I am so grateful that I am not left to my own devices to redeem and reform myself.

Meaning

I'm currently a fan of Facebook, as many are. It's a great way to keep connected with so many with very little effort. It's also a great way to post prayer requests. Just the other day the daughter of a friend asked those who know him to continue to pray for her father, Kurt. We all used to go to church together and have since blown about like seeds in the wind to be planted in other fields. I remember Kurt's tender and gracious heart. He drew people to God through loving them and teaching about God's marvelous grace.

Kurt has struggled for some time with Crohn's and was just recently in the hospital in critical condition. He is now recovering at home and is struggling with an issue that many do who have chronic life-impacting conditions. What is the purpose of my life now? Why am I here? What am I do do now?

Anyone who has struggled with chronic illness or another life-restricting condition knows just what I I'm talking about. There are no easy answers for any of us. In the world, and yes, even the church, productivity is always the answer, so finding your way is not easy.

I have another friend stuck in a wheelchair with MS, with extremely limited use of her body. We talk about these things fairly regularly.

Finding the purpose of our lives is very personal and must be embraced by all alike, healthy or not, limited or not. I've done much soul-searching, and more God-searching, over the last few years. Sometimes I despair of a satisfying answer. Other times, I remember that my life belongs to a loving and merciful God Who has a purpose for all things, even suffering. Even lack of "productivity."

So, here it is: I've come to believe that all things, good or evil, enjoyable or not, fulfill God's plan in some way I may not understand. I don't always understand what God is doing, but I can always trust His purpose and intent toward me and toward us all. His thoughts toward us are always good and He promises that our end is good. If I look at life's circumstances for my life's meaning, I will always be standing on shifting sand. I choose, and encourage you to choose, to stand on the Rock Who will never let us falter or fail. One day all things will be restored. In the meantime, we can trust Him to lead us and guide us and to make sense of our lives. Amen!!

On Being a Writer

Just recently it came to my attention, through several dear friends, that I am a writer. I feel a certain hesitation and reticence in saying that out loud. In my thinking, a writer was someone who used their writing to make a living. One also had to be pretty darn good at it to be successful. I have let go of those images because they certainly don't fit me. While, for some, writing is a means of financial gain, for me it is simply an expression of living. I wonder if there isn't a writer hidden within every one of us, whether or not we ever lay down a word.

This blog started as a means of sharing the good news that God isn't mad at mankind and has provided for the universal reconciliation of all mankind. That message is still my passion. The Good News really is good news!!

Now I am open to the possibility that there are other messages that bear telling as well. We will see where God will take me in this process. In the meantime, I will be learning not to cringe when I call myself a writer!