The man on the mat

For the word of God is full of living power. It is sharper than the sharpest knife, cutting deep into our innermost thoughts and desires. It exposes us for what we really are. – Hebrews 4:12 (NLT)

Jesus was in town, and the place was packed. Outside the humble house where He stood teaching, townsfolk crowded around the door and windows, straining to hear what He was saying, hoping to catch of glimpse the Man who healed all kinds of diseases and disabilities, drove out demons, brought the dead back to life, taught with more authority than the most learned rabbi. Why, word was that He’d fed a crowd of thousands with just a small lunch! He commanded a fierce storm to be still—and it did! What would He do today?

Among the spiritually hungry, the curiosity seekers and His disciples were those who came to find fault—the jealous religious leaders.

Then, in the middle of the sermon, a commotion on the roof caused all to look up. As chunks of clay and dried branches rained down on them, the crowd watched as a mat was lowered through the hole and came to rest on the dirt floor in front of Jesus. Four sweaty, hopeful faces peered through the hole on the roof.

“My son,” Jesus told the man on the mat, “your sins are forgiven.”

The crowd gasped. Only God could forgive sins! The Pharisees’ faces betrayed a controlled fury. They stared at Him with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

“OK,” Jesus said, “I’ll prove to you that I have the authority to forgive sins.”

Gazing tenderly at the paralyzed man, Jesus said, “Stand up, take up your mat, and go home, because you are healed!”

The stunned crowd gaped as the man on the mat did just that.

In this story, five sets of individuals were present: the Pharisees, the crowd, the four friends, the paralytic and the disciples.

I see myself in all of these groups, for they represent spiritual stages we all find ourselves in at one time or another.

I can be a Pharisee, full of myself, influenced by the world, clinging to religious traditions, and finding fault with anything that doesn’t fit in my narrow viewpoint.

I’ve mingled with the curious, the thrill seekers, the hope-hungry, truth-starved souls desperate for something to believe in.

Many times, in prayer, I’ve brought a precious friend, a loved one, to Him and laid him or her down at Jesus’ feet.

And times I’m the one on the mat, crippled by fear, hopelessness, despair—helpless to help myself.

And sometimes, like the disciples, I watch Him day after day, trying to learn what He’s teaching me, yet struggling with the magnitude of the job following Him requires.

Tell me, where are you in this story?

Dear Jesus, remove the blinders from the eyes of today’s Pharisees, fill the hungry with Your goodness, show us someone who needs You, break the bonds that paralyze and cripple us, and show us where we can serve You today. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Luke 5:17–26

Stilling the static

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. – James 4:8 (NKJV)

When baseball season comes around, I’ll be tuning in to my Pirates once again. OK, so they’re the cellar dwellers of the league, but they’re my team, and there’s nooooooo doubt about me rooting for them no matter what.

So, in preparation for Opening Day, one of the items on my husband’s “honey do” list is to fix the antenna on my radio. Last season, when a game was broadcast, the radio went with me everywhere—my study while I wrote, the kitchen while I made supper, the redneck porch while I crocheted in the evening until it got too dark to see. The lateness of the West Coast games wasn’t a problem. All I did was plug in my headphones and take the radio to bed with me.

But I often had trouble with the reception. For two reasons: our location and the strength of the signal, and a broken, jury-rigged antenna. (We Hueys, remember, don’t replace broken things if there’s a chance we can fix them.)

When the antenna wasn’t pointed exactly in the right direction, static drowned out the play-by-play. So I’d have to stop what I was doing and fiddle with the thing, which was loose and casually resting in its place, until the announcer’s voice came in loud and clear.

Sometimes the problem was simply that we were too far from the sending signal. That happened more when we were traveling and moving farther from the broadcasting station. I’d push the “seek” button until I found a station carrying the game, which worked until we drove out of range again.

Static can be a problem in my spiritual life, too. I just can’t hear what God is telling me because there’s too much noise drowning out His voice.

Sometimes the static is physical noise—someone talking, a radio or TV blaring, music playing (especially certain kinds of music), and plain, old, everyday noise.

Sometimes the static is different points of view and opinions. One guy says this; another guy says that. Differing opinions on the church, end times, the Holy Spirit, the meaning of certain passages of Scripture, holiness, healing, tithing, prayer, worship—even music during worship service—can get so loud I can’t hear what God has to say. Everyone seems to be speaking for Him these days.

That’s when I need to get closer to the Sending Signal, shutting out the world and shutting myself in with God.

There are other sending signals, too, though, some which send messages contrary to God’s. Pushing the “seek” button to get the signal that’s loudest doesn’t mean I’m getting the right message. So I study God’s Word, talk to Him in prayer, then wait for His answer.

Sometimes, though, the signal is strong but my antenna’s broken, jarred loose from the jostling and pounding of life. I’ve gotten too busy or am too tired to take time for prayer and Bible reading. Or I’ve unconfessed sin—a judgmental, self-righteous attitude, an unforgiving spirit, envy, pride, anger, doubt, indifference, ungratefulness—the list goes on. So easy to slip into and wallow without even realizing it. Until the static reminds me it’s time to adjust the antenna, put it in its rightful place and tighten it.

Getting closer to the Signal and staying in range, wrote James, is a matter of submitting to God, resisting the devil, washing our hands (deeds), purifying our hearts (attitudes), grieving for sin, and humbling ourselves.

Then He will lift us up and draw us near—closer to the heart of the Signal. And there’s nooooooooo doubt about that!

Dear God, sometimes I let the static get too loud before I do anything about it. Remind me to stay close to You and to adjust my antenna frequently so that it’s Your voice I hear, loud and clear. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read James 4:7-10

Doomsday and me

“No one knows the day or hour when these things will happen.” – Jesus, as quoted by Mark 13:37 (NLT)

Surfing through the channels one evening, I settled on a documentary called “The Bible Code.”

According to this theory, secret codes written into the Bible pinpoint doomsday: Dec. 21, 2012. An ancient Mayan calendar also foretells the end of world on that date. Scientists have added to the intrigue by predicting that a comet will crash into the earth about that time, annihilating life as we know it.

Using a system of deciphering codes called “equidistant letter sequencing” or ELS (sounds like a disease), Bible scholars found some interesting names hidden in Scripture: Napoleon Bonaparte, Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein, Adolf Hitler, John F. Kennedy and the name of his assassin. Also found were references to the Great Depression, Pearl Harbor and 911. The codes also reveal, if you believe them, the fall of America in 2009 and 2010. As if all the global warming predictions aren’t enough to scare us.

Doomsday predictions abound, and the science behind the predictions is convincing. We now have the technology for all the prophecies in the book of Revelation—the scrolls, the trumpets, the bowls of judgment—to come true.

I don’t need a code to tell me things are bad and getting worse or that the world is coming to an end. The Bible tells me in plain language.

What should we do? Pack our bags and wait for the sound of the trumpet? Try to get everything done we want to accomplish? Eat, drink and be merry? Worry?

First, don’t hop on the doomsday bandwagon. Be aware of the events unfolding in the world and their possible significance, but keep Jesus’ advice in mind: no one knows when this will be. Not even He, the Son of God, knows. Only the Father. So why worry about it?

Second, watch, pray, and keep on doing what you’re called to do: being a husband and father, wife and mother, son, daughter, good neighbor, worker. Live your life in such a way that people see Jesus in you. Jesus told parable after parable about what God expects of us. Read them.

Third, be ready. First century believers kept their eyes on the sky. They lived in expectation and readiness that Jesus could return at any time. “It will be good for those servants whose master finds them ready” (Luke 12:38). Readiness means making sure you are right with God (John 3:16, 36; 1 John 5:11–12) and are faithfully serving Him where He has called you to serve.

Fourth, know Scripture. Read it, study it, meditate on it, believe it. Everything we need to know is in there: how to live life here on Earth, how to get to Heaven, what’s going to happen to those who reject God, what’s going to happen in the end times. Know the Son, who is the truth (John 14:6). Knowing the truth frees us—from fear, worry, anxiety (John 8:32). Bibles are burned in some countries. We should be burning our Bibles, too—in our minds and hearts. Know the truth so that you can spot what is false.

Fifth, don’t argue about the end times—whether or not, for example, there’s going to be Rapture. What does it matter? If you’re a believer in the John 3:16 way, you’re covered. God promised to take care of you, and He will. If there is a Rapture, you’ll be whisked away to Heaven. If there isn’t, God will give you the strength to endure to the end. Either way, you win.

Finally, remember faith, hope and love. Keep the faith, let hope keep you joyful, and cultivate love.

I love nature, God’s creation, and am sad to think this will all come to an end someday. No more sky, no more sea, no more trees, no more flowers, no more birds, no more mountains, no more glorious sunsets.

But the Bible also promises not only a new heaven, but also a new earth (Revelation 21:1)—one uncorrupted by evil and sin—a beautiful world, utopia, the paradise God wanted for us in the beginning.

I can’t wait.

Dear God, help me to look beyond doomsday to the beautiful place You have planned for all who believe, trust and obey. Help me to keep doing what You have called me to do. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Mark 13, Matthew 24, Luke 21

Never too young

Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith, and in purity. – 1 Timothy 4:12 (NIV)

Cathy was in junior high. I was a just-out-of-college English teacher. Who would have thought that she’d make such an impact on my life?

One day she asked to talk to me after class about a book I’d purchased for the classroom library, a book that reflected my worldly viewpoint.

Although I’d been raised in a home where faith was an integral part of life, college changed my perspective, and betrayal and deep disappointments had soured my beliefs. I thought I knew what the world was all about, but, in reality, I was adrift, without an anchor, and didn’t even know it.

Until Cathy objected to the book and its far-from-faith premise. The book, she informed me, was all wrong because it didn’t reflect the truth of the Bible. And there, in that classroom, she presented the Gospel to me in a way I’d never heard it before. I admired her for her simple, yet solid faith. She knew what she believed and why.

As she spoke—with such conviction—I remembered when I had faith, too. And in that moment I saw how far I’d drifted from God and longed for a faith like hers.

“Cathy,” I said, “don’t ever lose that faith. Hang on to it all your life, no matter what happens.”

When I had my first child a few years later, I knew it was time to get back to my roots and grow a faith like Cathy’s—and give my children a rich heritage of faith that would see them through the tough times of life.

That was more than 30 years ago. I don’t know where Cathy is now. But I’m forever grateful that she had the courage of her convictions to confront her teacher about a book that was out of line with what God says in His Word.

It just goes to show that you’re never too young to be used by God.

Too often we hear only bad about the younger generation. The ones who are disrespectful, rebellious, and selfish are the ones who make the news. We shake our heads and lament, “What is the world coming to?”

Let me tell you.

About college freshman John Wesley Tibbs. When John was in high school, he had a burning desire to help those who were dying of AIDS in Africa. For his senior project, this talented musician and composer produced a CD of his own music to raise money for an AIDS treatment and prevention center in the village of Kampala in Uganda. To date, Music for Kampala has raised $5,600.

“What is this world coming to?”

Let me tell you.

About high school senior Ashley Craig. Her compassion for those starving in Third World countries sparked a dream to make a difference. So, for her senior project, she challenged her church family from three congregations to join her in eating only beans and rice for three days, and donate the money they would have spent on groceries to a fund she created to feed the hungry in a Honduran village. She raised $8,500.

These two high school seniors, in two years, raised over $14,000 to help alleviate the suffering of people they don’t even know.

Times are crazy, the world is nuts, and our country is a mess. But we don’t have to despair. Not as long as there are young people like Cathy, John and Ashley.

And I’ll bet you know others—young people who are going the distance to make their lives count.

Who are part of a generation on fire for God.

A generation that knows they are not too young to make a difference in this world.

Dear God, show me ways I can support these young people on fire for You. Through them, I, too, can make a difference. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read 1 Timothy 4:12–16

The face before me

Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. – Mark 10:43–44 (NIV)

I’ve always felt drawn to Mother Teresa. Perhaps because when I was born my mother wanted to name me “Teresa.” My father objected, so “Teresa” became my middle name.

Perhaps it’s because I’d lie in bed at night and dream of going to a poor country and helping others when I grew up. In college, I looked into the Peace Corps.

But my mission field was not a foreign country, although I still long to go. My mission field has been my family, friends, neighbors, coworkers and all with whom I come in contact every day, from face-to-face contact to telephone to email.

The news these days can be pretty disheartening for someone like me, who wants to make a difference on a big scale. Few have that opportunity. I was going to write “Few have that privilege,” but God nudged me. A small ministry isn’t any less important to Him as the biggest, splashiest, flashiest ones. Serving backstage, in the forgotten wildernesses of life, is just as valuable.

Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to Mother Teresa. She didn’t set out to be famous, win a Nobel Prize, write a book, establish the Missionaries of Charity, become a saint, although she accomplished all that and more. Her vision was simple: to ease the pain of the sick and dying in the most destitute, most forsaken place on earth—the streets of a city teeming with poverty, disease and death.

She could have felt overwhelmed by the gigantic task she faced—the sheer number of those who were lying on the filthy streets of Calcutta. But rather than adopt a doom-and-gloom perspective, she chose another strategy.

“With so many poor people,” someone once asked her, “how do you keep from feeling overwhelmed because you can’t help them all?”

“I focus on the face before me,” she replied.

What faces are before me today? In my world—my itsy, bitsy, tiny, wee corner of the world—whose hand can I hold? Whose face can I light up with a smile, a card, a word of encouragement, a hug? Who can I spend time with just listening?

I don’t have to look far. Everyone’s hurting in some way. We hide our pain behind laughter, jokes, meanness. The person who acts like a porcupine with its quills out is the very one you need to get closer to. Soften the barbs with kindness, love and a Jesus attitude. Be Jesus to them.

Picture yourself in the middle of a circle—your world, your circle of influence. Now picture other circles, neighborhood by neighborhood, town by town, county by county, state by state—imagine circles all over the US and the world—and in the middle of each circle is not the big guy, the famous guy, the rich one—but the little guy, like you and me, doing what he can to make life easier for the face before him, one face at a time.

Dear God, when I’m feeling insignificant and overwhelmed, remind me that You have not called me to be successful—You have called me to be faithful. Help me to be faithful and focus on the face before me. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Luke 10:30–37