MIST-TERY

When my home was first built, more than forty years ago, this tree was barely thigh-high when planted. I'm not good as guessing heights, but I think it's more than twenty feet tall. It commands a corner of the front lawn. No, I don't string lights on it at Christmas, but it's “evergreen-ness” is a regular reminder of God's amazing plan for plant life. This tree quietly sheds some needles, but just across the fence, my neighbor's willow generously drops its autumn-yellowed covering. (You can see some of its branches just to the right.), Leaf-fall and fall-mist seem to be constant cousins, painting their own canvas of a land settling in for winter's chilling pause.

I recently came across this quote: “The past is history, the future is a mystery, the present is a gift. Every day is a gift—that's why it's called a present.” For those of us who live in cooler climates (with the vivid change of seasons), the cycle of winter-spring-summer-fall brings vivid reminders of a Divine plan even for earth's weather. A season to grow. A season to rest. A reason to awaken and grow again.

My three grandsons were here the other night for dinner. I'd already wrapped their Christmas gifts, which sat in a pile in the living room. Oh, they noticed those! Snicker, snicker, pinch, pinch. They've probably figured out the contents—the typical Grandma-sewn pajamas, now a holiday tradition. Last year they begged to open their gifts after the Christmas eve service, and promptly, one-by-one, dashed into the bathroom to change from “regular clothes” to their new Pj's.

The next morning, they would tear into the “stash” under their family's Christmas tree, including kits of all those little snap-together plastic blocks. You know the ones—their name starts with the letter “L.” Their current “cache” (a full storage bin) isn't enough to their little minds. There's always the “new kit” with a new project to build “just out” and beckoning....

And maybe there's a comparison here between a growing tree and a growing pile of tiny plastic play-blocks. Each has its purpose—the one to sustain the environment, the other to “grow” little minds. The blocks certainly “trained” their dad's mind to “configure” and “connect.” He became an electrical engineer.

Back to that tree. Who would have imagined its steady growth from a “wee thing” to a giant of needled green beauty? And so it should be with us, spiritually. Planted in faith, nurtured with the Word, we are to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 3:18). And when those spiritual growing pains come—when life is hard—to remember: “Tribulation produces perseverance, and perseverance, character, and character, hope” (Romans 5:3-4).

Not wimpy, half-hearted, mist-blurred “religion,” but stalwart faith in a loving God.

SIGNS OF LABOR

If winter's cold is getting you down, imagine yourself back in summertime... when instead of mittens or stout snow gloves I was wearing...garden gloves.

My  garden gloves were a mess—torn, somewhat mended with duct tape, definitely ready for the trash after years of grubbing out weeds. I guess my sister-in-law noticed when she stopped by one day while I was down-on-my-knees wrestling with rose-bed weeds. Soon after, here came her practical, loving gift: new gloves.

I purposely chose the word “wrestling,” as my “knee-level” gardening stance regularly reminds me of another implication of “on-your-knees”: that of earnest prayer. Prayer doesn't need a certain body posture. But I've experienced how the “down-on-the-knees” posture helps adjust my heart-attitude when I'm wrestling with heart-wrenching prayer needs.

That's also the word translators chose (from the Greek pale) for the earnest prayers of one of the leaders of an early New Testament church located in today's nation of Turkey. The word is tucked away in Paul's letter to the church in Colossae (near today's modern city of Honaz in southwest Turkey*).

Epaphras, who is one of you and a servant of Christ Jesus, sends greetings. He is always wrestling in prayer for you, that you may stand firm in all the will of God, mature and fully assured. (Colossians 4:12 NIV)

Even though Paul had never been to the city (see Colossians 2:1), he had once hoped to come there in person to encourage the Colossian believers. Christianity had been planted there through the ministry of Colossian resident Epaphras, converted during a trip to Ephesus (about 100 miles away). Now, years later, this new church had adapted some heresies into their faith platform, including a descent into legalism and Gnosticism. Epaphras knew he needed help to lead this congregation, so made the long trip to Rome to consult with Paul, now a prisoner on house arrest.

In response to Epaphras' concern, Paul wrote this pastoral letter, full of doctrine and theological correction. It ended with extensive “final greetings” that revealed his appreciation for those who were carrying on the Colossian ministry. Ten names dot the final ten verses—quiet reminders of believers who put on their “work gloves” to serve that church.

I wonder if, at this point, Paul felt something like worn-out work gloves. He'd traveled thousands of miles, enduring beatings, stonings, and persecutions. Yet, stranded in Rome as a prisoner, he realized he'd probably have to give up hopes of “hands-on” ministry in Colossae. He had to turn it over to “new gloves,” new leaders who had to confront the false legalistic teachings and affirm the Gospel message of faith in Christ.

Or, to continue the analogy: it was a situation of “out with the old rules/rituals and weird Gnostic ideas” and “in with the new life-giving Gospel.” Crusty, dirty, worn-out religious ideas OUT, the fresh, working-gloves faith in Jesus, IN!

*See map here: Honaz,Denizli, Türkiye - Bing Maps

**For a little more on the Colossian heresy, go here: 

Whatis the Colossian Heresy?

HE ALONE--MY ROCK

"Saddlerock"--the most famous rock above my valley.
It reminds me of the desolate terrain where David hid.

The contemporary worship song “In Christ Alone” has been been wafting through my mind lately. Here's an online presentation to bring it to mind, if you're not familiar with it: Bing Videos* (full link below).

The most recent “come-to-mind” occasion surfaced as I read Psalm 62, which Bible scholars think may have been related to David's unsought “alone” time in the desert during his son Absalom's attempt to usurp the throne.

My soul finds rest in God alone, My salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will never be shaken.(vv. 1-2)

The next verses talk about enemies who want to topple a man. Surely this fit the situation of a king being pushed from his throne. But David, in his “aloneness,” found the holy aspect of “alone” in making God alone his hope:

Find rest O my soul, in God alone; my hope is from him, He alone is my rock and my salvation, He is my mighty rock, my refuge, I trust in him at all times, O people; Pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. (vv. 5-8)

Quiz time: go through this psalm and mark every time the words “only” and “alone” are mentioned. There are times when worship communities or “small groups”--as good as they are in spiritual nurture--aren't enough to get us close to God's heart. He often speaks in the quiet, silent pauses. Surely that was the case of the Old Testament prophet Elijah, who ran for his life from a treacherous royal couple, ending up in a desolate place. There, alone, cut off from human contact, he waited for God's next nudge. And waited. Finally came that holy moment, after a mysterious spiritual pause in ministry, when God revealed the prophet's next task (1 Kings 16-17).

This Bible story grips me, because I'm prone to believe the cliché, “If it's supposed to be, it's up to me.” But when I shift the emphasis to “in Christ alone,” I learn to seek His path. I learn God is in the pauses as well as the actions. Instead of charging down an unknown path, I go forward carefully, keeping my eyes on Him, “the Author and Perfecter of Faith.”

Jesus was never in a hurry. He included solitude and silence—rest in the Father--in His daily rhythms. For get-it-done personalities like mine, such reminders are important—no, more than that, absolutely necessary—to keep focused on His unfolding will for my life.

Video link: 

https://www.bing.com/videos/riverview/relatedvideo?q=%22In+thee+alone%22%2Bhymn&mid=537489326122024E7DC5537489326122024E7DC5&FORM=VIRE

HORN OF PLENTY-TO-BE-THANKFUL-FOR

Thanksgiving—yes, it's “cornucopia” time, with the cone-shaped decor stuffed with leaves and autumn leaves or fruits brought out of storage for this season. So named for its cone shape (duh!), some sources say its use dates even to the Bronze Age (3300-1200 B.C.). Back then, of course, it had nothing to do with “Thanksgiving” as we know it. Instead, “cornucopias” were broken off-animal horns.

The name derives from the Latin cornu (for “horn”) and copia (for “plenty”). Word-origin tales include two from Greek mythology. One says the baby Zeus accidentally broke off the horn of a goat that nursed him. As the tale goes, the horn provided divine, unending nourishment. The other myth concerns Zeus's offspring Hercules, who broke off the horn of a river god. Somehow in the detours that myths take, the “horn” became a symbol of an abundant harvest.

Fast track through more history, and the Vikings, Germanic tribes, Celts and Romans began using horns as drinking utensils. Eventually man-crafted horn-like drinking vessels emerged, made of ivory and embellished with gold, silver and enamel. Out in the fields, the curved cone shape morphed into a strapped basket that hung from the shoulders of harvest workers. (I can just imagine its practicality for crops like grapes and other fruit.) Advance to our times, when the cornucopia is typically reserved for November decorations, filled with autumn leaves, nuts, miniature pumpkins and gourds.

So, yes, I dug out our decades-old cornucopia for display this November. I also recalled how for many years another November “tradition” at our home was a family “thankful box.” This was a square facial tissue box onto which I glued autumn-motif fabric. I put it on the table with scraps of paper and a pencil. All month, family members were to fill it with notes about what they were thankful for. On Thanksgiving evening, we emptied the “box” and read aloud the notes. It was a wonderful way to practice the scriptural admonition:

In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. --1 Thessalonians 5:18 (KJV).

Alas, in our times, we rush through the “cornucopia” season to the buy-buy-buy season. The day after Thanksgiving is known as “black Friday” for the frantic search for holiday bargains ahead of Christmas. Such frenzy stands in contrast to the simple message that the cornucopia symbolizes. The best things aren't on sale racks. They're in the simple provision of daily sustenance that comes from the heart and hand of our generous God. Thanksgiving-time “thankfulness” should recalibrate our hearts for the December-celebrated, supreme reason for “thankfulness”: a Savior, Christ the Lord.

DUSTY...

Spider webs captured smoke ash
on shrubs at my home

My household “chore” as a small child was “dusting” the furniture, wiping an old flannel cloth across surfaces. I don't recall dawdling and using my finger to write my name in the dust, although I could have so-”autographed” the household furniture. I just wanted to get through my chore! I remember that chore now as I notice more-than-usual household dust in my own home, no thanks to multiple wildfires in hills and mountains in my part of the state.  

Winds are wafting the smoke into our valley, dusting everything (including what sneaks into the house) with a gray ash veil. And I remember....that ash had great symbolic meaning in the Bible. Often it's used for human mortality and humility before God. One of the more familiar occasions: Job, bereft of all he held dear (children, possessions, health) and left only with a crabby wife. Here he sat in ashes, afflicted with a miserable illness such that nobody wanted to get too close to him, and she hollers, “Curse God and die” (Job 2:9). (I wouldn't call her an “encourager”!)

It helps to understand this Biblical “sitting in ashes” pose to realize that in those times ashes represented repentance, mourning, humility, and morality. Besides sore-covered Job sitting in the ash heap, some centuries later there was city-wide ash-sitting in Nineveh. That's when Jonah, still dripping in whale saliva, followed through with God's command to call the city to repentance. It shocked the whole evil town, and even the king put aside his royal robes for sackcloth, and left his throne for a pile of ashes (Jonah 3:6).

Such history helps me understand why in Mosaic law, ashes were used in purification rituals. Representing human frailty, judgment and destruction, ashes pointed to cleansing and hope. But I think Jesus put another spin on the rite when He rebuked the evil cities of Korazin and Bethsaida (located north of the Sea of Galilee), which--despite seeing His miracles--refused to repent (“in sackcloth and ashes”--Matt. 11:21) for their sins.

There's nothing magic about “dust and ashes.” But there is truth in their symbolism: that of admitting that the “things of earth”—like living a “good” but Christ-empty life--are worthless unless there's a heart renewed by the purifying power of God.

BEDSIDE BUDDIES

I'm trying to break a habit—of having way too many books on my bedside table. I know of folks who can't head for bed until they've watched the 10 o'clock evening news. I fade before then, preferring to let God's Word or wisdom from others who've absorbed spiritual truths be my “last thoughts” of the day. So, yes, some classic and edifying books are stacked next to my alarm clock.

Here are the books I'd accumulated at bedside before my recent pare-down (I kept about half bedside). The ones I removed are now on an office bookshelf—still appreciated as faithful “book friends” to which I will return for spiritual challenge and hope.

*The Disciplines of Life by V. Raymond Edman (c. 1948). He was the fourth president of Wheaton College in Illinois (1941-1965) and then was college chancellor. He died in 1967 while speaking to students in the college chapel. Today, the chapel at this well-known Christian college bears his name. So do the titles of 19 Christian books. This one develops 31 seemingly negative circumstances (all starting with the letter “d,” like “danger” and “disillusionment”) and draws from them their hidden spiritual blessings. In other words, looking at the “good” that can come out of life's “bad.”

*The Amplified New Testament (c. 1958). I have my mother's copy of this devotional (she died in 1978). I appreciate the “enlargement” of original Greek word meanings in its text (designated by parenthesis) plus am touched to see which verses she had underlined in red.

*My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers (c. 1935). Based on devotionals he delivered in England and to English troops stationed in Egypt (1911-1917).

*Streams in the Desert by Mrs. Charles Cowman (c. 1966). Classic devotional by former missionary, draws heavily from classic Christian literature.

*Be Worshipful by Warren Wiersbe (c. 2004). An insightful and practical study of Psalms. I had the privilege of meeting this pastor/teacher/writer when he spoke to my graduate class at Wheaton College.

*The Practice of Godliness (1983) and The Pursuit of Holiness (1978) by Jerry Bridges. Lived-through, challenging studies of these spiritual qualities by a man long associated with The Navigators ministry.

*Hurt People Hurt People by Dr. Sandra Wilson (c. 2001). This former family therapist's insights helped me navigate past emotional wounding.

*Healing for Damaged Emotions by David Seamands (c. 1981). Helpful for healing from challenging relationships, meaningful for same reason as Dr. Wilson's book (above).

Yes, I also have a Bible on my bedside table—actually, a small, lightweight New Testament for those “final moments of the night” that I like to close with something from God's Word. Its small size also helps me with scripture memorization. No more hoisting my heavy reference Bible back and forth for that discipline of getting God's Word “inside” me.

I have to confess that a few years ago, my evening “habit” included one of the prime-time TV game shows. I enjoyed trying to beat the contestants to the right answer. But the Lord drew me away from that, reminding me of the better priority of absorbing His love letter to me with its messages of hope and help for life's challenges. I rarely watch television anymore.

I get little reader feedback from this blog, though the internet statistics show many are clicking into it. Would you care to share your favorite bedside books in the comments section below?

ROOTED

Well....this weed had a deep “foundation”--and I'm glad the soil was moist enough that I could “liberate it” from further growth without leaving the root in the soil to propagate again. I'm sure you've seen—as I have—homes in the community where weeds have taken over. I pass by one nearly every week, the once-trim lawn now thigh-high in weeds. I know that house, in and out. Back in my single days (the early 1970s) I rented a bedroom there for a winter. At that time it had orange shag rug, and my roommates had a dog who thought that rug was a dandy location for its, uh, “bathroom duties.” But, I digress...

Driving past it now—overwhelmed by weeds and more—I remember our  “renter duties” of mowing and weeding. We kept it 'lookin' good." Now when I see an unkempt house, I think of several reasons “why.” Sometimes it's in an estate situation—the owner deceased, the inheritance knotted up in probate issues. Or it may be owner-occupied, and that owner unwell or just doesn't care. Or, third choice, a rental, with an absentee owner who, well, just doesn't care as long as the occupants pay the rent.

Bear with me for the analogy, but I wonder if our Lord looks over His world and finds hearts that are spiritually unkempt, full of the weeds of bad habits, sloth, anger, or indifference. I remember this principle: “For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11). If the body-and-mind-house (our flesh-blood-thinking “selves”) doesn't have Jesus in residence and in control, it often shows in what we present outwardly to the world through our demeanor and words.

That seems to be a common theme in letters that the apostle Paul wrote to fledgling churches. Besides the one at Corinth (mentioned above which had its share of worldly “habits” to change) there were believers at Colossae (in modern-day Turkey), who got this Pauline reminder: “So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness” (Colossians 2:6-7).

In other words, the inner character that is revealed in our “outward lives”--as the soil yields either a mess of weeds or a groomed, cared-for lawn—is what the world sees. It's also how the world regards the difference that a faith “rooted” in the Lord Jesus Christ as Savior can make in our inside/outside "person."

Come to think about, one alternative to a cared-for lawn is one overwhelmed by crab grass. And it's hard to be “overflowing with thankfulness” if you've got weeds of crabby discontent in your life. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go out and dig some weeds out of my real lawn.