Category: Sacrifice

The Third Day

Posted on by Dorci

“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?’” John 11:25-26

The whole world thought he was dead.

Their hopes had been so high.  Living under an oppressive rule, he had emerged as a man who performed miracles among the least of them — the poor, the lame, the blind, the leper, the demon-possessed.  So many lives had changed beyond anything they could have imagined.  They were healed, brought back to life, rejoined to their families, all because of one man.

One man had noticed them when no one else had.  When the only other attention given to them was shame or pity, he had seen them.  He had looked into their eyes, into their very souls, and validated their existence.

He had done and said things no one ever had.  He worked on the Sabbath and made no apologies.  He overturned the tables and cleared the temple for making a mockery of it.  He stood in the faces of hypocritical religious leaders and called them blind guides and whitewashed tombs.  He fed thousands with a boy’s lunch.

They’d hoped to make him king.  He was on his way to greatness and they were on their way to freedom.  Just a week before they had celebrated him.

And now he was dead.

His disciples were in mourning.  He had said something to them about being raised on the third day, but who could know what he meant now.  The past three years were gone, and it all seemed a blur. Things seemed to be headed in such a hopeful direction.  Once they thought he’d be their leader and they’d serve alongside him.  He would redeem Israel.  He would be their savior.

Now he was a prophet at best.  Just a good man lying dead inside a tomb.  Where was God? Why did He let it happen? Jesus’ life and theirs had all taken a turn they never saw coming, and all their hopes and dreams were gone.

But things aren’t always as they seem.

Beyond their understanding, beyond their imagination, beyond their greatest hopes and dreams, Christ rose from the dead on the third day, just like He said He would.

Now, with the benefit of 2000 years and God’s Word, we know the end of the story. We know there was a purpose for His death.  We know He was indeed the Christ, the Messiah who was to come, and that He had to die and live again for the remission of the sins of mankind.  We know He stayed with them, teaching them for another forty days, and then He ascended into heaven to the right hand of the Father where He rules forever.

God’s ways were much higher than Jesus’ disciples ever could have imagined.  He didn’t come just to save Israel for this life, but all believers for eternity.  He didn’t come to be just king of a country, but King of our hearts.  We know He wasn’t only a prophet or a good man, He was, and is, God.

And in His resurrection, He showed His power over death.  He proved the words He’d spoken to them: “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”  John 14:6

Resurrection morning is all about life.  His life and ours. It’s about the Source of life coming down to redeem us and give us new life.  Not only did Christ rise, but in Him we rise.  When we believe in Him we’re forgiven of all our sins and His life courses through our veins.  We have the promise of our souls rising from the grave the moment our life here ends, and our bodies at the end of all things.

But we are not yet resurrected.  We are still bound to these bodies and we battle sin in ourselves and in the world every day. And there are times our lives can take a jolting turn. Like the disciples, we can have plans that God doesn’t have.  Life had been moving along so well and we had it all mapped out.  And then there was the loss of something — a child, a spouse, a parent, a career, a friendship, health.  Something changed and it wasn’t supposed to be that way.  Disillusion sets in.  All our hopes and dreams are gone.

And we can be like the disciples in those long hours after their friend’s lifeless body had been carried away for burial.  We wonder what happened.  We wonder where God is and how things could have turned out so differently than we thought they would. The hours tick by and we wonder if the third day will ever come.  We feel lost, confused and alone.

But things aren’t always as they seem.

In the dark hours of suffering and loss we can understand what the disciples didn’t: that our preconceived notions and personal hopes and dreams have to die if God’s are to live in and through us.  Just as God wanted to do so much more than the disciples could have imagined, He wants to do much more in our lives than we can ever dream.

We see the end of the story that the disciples had not yet seen. And God sees the end of our story.  He sees what He is making us to be.  He sees what’s on the other side of that hill in our journey.  He sees the joy on our faces as He raises us from the dead and we join Him in heaven.  He sees us living whole, glorified lives, our souls freed from every kind of pain to soar forever with Him in new life.

He is the Author of Life, and we can trust Him.

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.”  2 Corinthians 4:16

Christ’s power over death is at work in us right now.  It may not look like it; it may not feel like it.  But the disciples would all tell us that looks and feelings can be deceiving.  We can have His joy now, knowing our third day will come soon.  And one day that joy will be complete, when the Maker of Life raises us with Him.  His resurrection gives us a taste of that new life now, and a glimpse of the glory to come.

In Him,

 

 

 

Go with the Flow

Posted on by Dorci

We didn’t have much of a chance to talk when I was growing up, but later my dad and I would talk for hours.  We were both thinkers and we’d each spend way too much time in our heads trying to work out our problems.  We also both shared an inclination to write things down.  And when one called the other, all those thoughts that had been swirling around in our heads or maybe even made it onto paper, spilled out into our conversations.

We took turns, comparing notes, collaborating, solving the world’s problems since we couldn’t seem to solve our own.

I knew a little bit about the difficult life he’d had, and he knew a little bit more about mine.  Being my dad, I know he wanted to help me.  I don’t know much more of a helpless feeling than to be a parent who can only stand by and watch a child suffer.

He saw me flailing, struggling, and it was as if he were watching me from shore with no boat and no life raft of his own to share with me.

So he’d call out to me the best advice he could give: “Go with the flow.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But fighting came easier somehow.  It was instinctual.

They say if you’re caught in a riptide, swim with the current, parallel to the shoreline, until you’re safe.  But most people fight the current.  They use all their strength trying to swim back to shore in direct opposition to the powerful and relentless current, and many don’t make it.

Go with the flow.  Accept.  Yield.

Paul the apostle put it like this:

“Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.  I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:11-13 NAS

For God’s sons and daughters, He is that current in our lives.

He blows the winds of circumstances where He will, and to fight them is to fight Him, and no one wins fighting God.

But when we accept the circumstances of our lives as coming from the hand of a loving, all-powerful, all-present and all-knowing Father, we can, with Paul, learn the secret of contentedness, and trust Him to carry us to safety.

It seems to me at this moment a happy coincidence that my dad’s name was Paul, too.

Whether centuries ago or just a couple of decades, truth is truth, and somehow the Lord in His mercy, knowing full well that one day he’d give his heart to Christ, gave my dad what he needed to get through the storms of his life.

I didn’t get it so much when my dad was giving me his advice years ago.  I was younger then and still had the energy and stubbornness to fight.  But I’m getting it a little bit more these days.  God’s patience and many trials have worn me down.   And I’m glad. All that flailing was blocking the voice of God. Now I’m learning to be still and listen.

There are days I wish my dad had lived long enough to be able to read what the other Paul had to say about “going with the flow” in the light of Christ.  To have the chance to take that thought one step further and know that it’s more than just tolerating life’s trials.  That in Christ he could find strength and even joy in the middle of those circumstances, and even grow through them.

Most of the time, though, I rejoice that my dad was able to escape the suffering of this life and receive his reward just five days after he let Christ into his life.

If he were still here, he’d be 76 today and still trying to figure it all out, just like I am.  But he is home now, and he is ageless, living a life more contentedly than he ever imagined.

I wonder if the two Pauls have met yet.  I can just see them, sitting together, comparing notes, but this time without a care in the world.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

Love,

On Waiting

Posted on by Dorci

“Show me Your ways, O Lord; teach me Your paths. Lead me in Your truth, and teach me; for You are the God of my salvation; on You I wait all the day long.”  Psalm 25:4-5

I sat at the intersection waiting to turn right.  There was a boy standing on the corner next to me, violin case in hand.  We both stared at the same red light.  As the light was about to change, traffic had let up and ordinarily I would have jumped at the chance to take my turn. I saw the car behind me and knew the driver would be impatient.  But I waited the few seconds, knowing the boy would step into the intersection any minute. The light turned green and I waited for him to cross.

HONK!!  

I looked in my rear view mirror and saw that look sprawled across her face.  That angry, disgusted, I-have-somewhere-important-to-be look.

The light is green, why don’t you go?

My car and some trees kept her from seeing the boy.

I don’t know if she ever did see him and realize her impetuousness, or if her attitude had gotten her so twisted up and focused on herself that she missed him altogether.

I can be that way sometimes.

I can get that look.

Maybe not always on my face (although I’m sure that happens more than I’d want to admit), but it’s on my heart.  And God sees it.

When I’m waiting for the painful circumstances of my life to change, when I’m waiting for an answer to my prayer, when I’m waiting for someone else to MOVE!

I become impatient. Impetuous.  Rash.  I move when I shouldn’t.  And I make mistakes.

I forget that I’m waiting on God, the Author and Finisher of my faith.

All good authors take time to get the details just right.

And God is a good author.  The best, in fact.

So He waits for circumstances to line up the way they need to be.  He waits for my attitude to change.  He waits for other people around me.  He waits for the timing to be just right.

But I don’t always see what He sees.  Almost never, in fact.

Much of the time I’m so focused on myself and my immediate wants that I can miss the fact that God is doing a work, not just in my life, but in my heart, and even in the people around me, and that takes time.

So He waits for me to look up.

“To you I lift up my eyes, O you who are enthroned in the heavens! Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maidservant to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the Lord our God, till he has mercy upon us.” Psalm 123:1-2

Our waiting is not without purpose.

We look to Him, waiting patiently, expectantly, on a loving God to use the circumstances of our lives to mold us into the image of His Son.

We watch Him as He reveals truths, teaches lessons, grows our faith.

We wait and let Him bring us to maturity.

Sometimes the waiting is short and sometimes it’s long.  Very long.  Sometimes the consequences are small, and sometimes they’re bigger than we ever imagined.

I remember another story about a woman in a car.  A woman who loved the Lord with all her heart.  A woman who became impatient.  She sat in traffic behind a row of cars, and she was in  a hurry.  The lane next to hers was a lot shorter, and she was tempted to take it.  She heard the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit telling her to wait.  But she was in such a hurry.  She ignored the small voice and listened to her own.  Quickly she changed lanes to get ahead, but what she didn’t see was a boy crossing the street.  Before she knew it she had hit him.  He died of his injuries.  As I watched her interview, she was overcome with grief.  The thing is, she hadn’t done anything that any of us wouldn’t do.

But God saw what she didn’t, and He lovingly, patiently, tried to warn her.

Just like He tries to warn us and teach us.  The question is: are we going to listen?  Are we going to be the sheep who walk off a cliff, or who hear His voice and follow Him?  (John 10:27)

We think we know what’s best, but we don’t. Only God sees the future.  And He has much to say to us, to show us, to teach us, if we will only look up and listen to His still, small voice.

Invisible Dogs

Posted on by Dorci

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” 2 Timothy 1:7

There was a period of time I had dreams that a wild pack of dogs was chasing me.  I never saw them, I just heard their snarling, vicious barking and my imagination ran away with thoughts of being torn limb from limb.  I’d be filled with fear and instinctively run for my life.

Night after night this nightmare invaded my dreams until one night when I heard the dogs right behind me and I thought what if I just stand here, turn around and face them?

So I did.

The barking stopped and the dogs were gone.

I never had that dream again. Later I had dreams about bears, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.

Because of a series of events throughout my life, fear is something I’ve always had to deal with.  Even when the initial event is over, that fear can linger like a pack of invisible dogs.  And I haven’t always stood my ground and stared that thing I’m afraid of in the face.  There are times I’ve run.

But the Lord’s shown me that if I keep running from the thing I’m afraid of, fear will always chase me.

We all have invisible dogs–those fears that chase after us–and for some inexplicable reason we automatically turn and run.  They don’t even have to be big things.  Sometimes we run from the little things just because we don’t want to be uncomfortable.

And running from those little things puts in motion deep inside us an undercurrent of fear that we may not even be aware is there.  And then when something big comes along, instead of being able to draw on a foundation of courage, we have none.

Trusting God to be with us in the little things grows our faith big enough to trust Him in the big things.

And there is something big God has entrusted to us.

It’s the reason Paul encourages Timothy (and us) to remember that God does not give a spirit of fear.

“Therefore I remind you to stir up the gift of God which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, nor of me His prisoner, but share with me in the sufferings for the gospel according to the power of God,  who has saved us and called us with a holy calling,”  2 Timothy 1:6

Above anything else, we can’t be afraid to use the spiritual gifts God’s given to each one of us for the good of the kingdom of God—to strengthen our brothers and sisters and to witness to those who are as of yet unsaved.

And sometimes that can be a little scary.  A little uncomfortable.

Paul suffered to share the message of the gospel with people who were dying in their sin.  But he so believed in that message—in Christ—that he was willing to risk being repeatedly imprisoned, flogged, starved, shipwrecked, in constant danger, and finally, beheaded.

I doubt any of us will ever face the trials Paul did, but we will serve Christ at a cost.  Like Paul, we are here on a mission.  We are called to share in the sufferings of Christ, to be a living sacrifice, bold and unashamed, living for His glory, not our comfort.

But oh, the gain.  The souls we’ll encourage, the lives we’ll save, the light we’ll shine, the glory we’ll reveal, the crowns we’ll receive and cast at the feet of our Lord.

If we’re willing to turn around and look fear in the face.

A lot of the time those fears will disappear when we turn to face them.  But if they don’t, if they charge us anyway, at the end of day, it won’t matter.

Paul has long forgotten his suffering.  But he will never forget the joy of serving alongside the King of kings, the glory that’s his in Christ, or the souls that are with him now, all because he was willing to use his gift.

Grace and peace,

Are You Still Wrestling?

Posted on by Dorci

“Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.”  Ephesians 6:10-12

The closest I’ve ever come to a wrestling match is breaking up my boys when they were little.  They never wrestled angry, just for fun.  It’s a boy thing, I guess.

But the second I was saved, I faced a wrestling match of a spiritual kind.  Whether I acknowledged it or not, I was on the mat, and my opponent was out for blood.

He still is.

He knows every trick in the book and he’ll use them to his advantage.  He knows my weaknesses, he knows when I’m tired, he knows when my attention is on something else.

But I think his greatest advantage is coming at me when I’m nowhere near the ring.  When I’ve let down my guard, and he looks less like an opponent and more like a movie everybody else is seeing that somewhere deep inside I know I shouldn’t, or that shiny thing I can’t afford, or an attitude I think I’m entitled to.

Do I wrestle then?

Do I go to God in prayer and fight the temptation, or do I just give in?

Maybe I assume that if everybody else is doing it, it must be okay.  Or, I might think I don’t want to bother God, because, well, I really, really want to do it.  Or have it.

So, just like I think I’ll trick my body into ignoring the calories of a strawberry cupcake if I eat it really fast, somehow we believe God will turn a blind eye if we do this one thing really quick.  It’ll just a take a minute.  Or a couple of hours.

And before we know it, satan has us pinned.

Theoretically, we know scripture says there’s a struggle with the enemy.  The question is, are we struggling back? Are we fighting to put aside our own will and certainly the enemy’s, and seeking God’s will for us personally, or have we given up the fight? Have we assumed certain things are okay because everybody else, even other Christians, are doing it?

The enemy is ruthless in his efforts to defeat us.  He’ll fight dirty, he’ll fight hard, he’ll simply wait until we’re too tired to keep fighting back.  Until the world around us is screaming “Barrabas!” (or at least trying to blend in with the crowd) and we don’t want to be the only one screaming “Jesus!”

Don’t let the enemy defeat you by stealing your convictions and shoving you into the world’s compromise.

Calories are calories, and God’s truth is the truth.  Period.  He loves us too much to turn a blind eye.

Who knows, maybe God wants us to have that particular shiny thing. But He most definitely wants us to ask.  He wants us to stand with Him and when we do, He’ll be in the ring with us and we can’t lose.

The goal in wrestling is to gain a superior position over our opponent.  God tells us how to do that:

“Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.” Ephesians 6:13

Whatever you’re dressed in today, make darn sure you have on the full armor of God.

And be prepared to fight.

 

In the love of Christ,