Category: Suffering

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,

Eyes on the Ball

Posted on by Dorci

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

“Keep your eyes on the ball!”
 

I don’t know how many times I heard those words lobbed to me as I stood at home plate, bat in my little hands, waiting for the pitcher to underhand the softball in my direction.

But I could never do it.  The ball became nothing but a blur as it spinned toward me, and then past me.  I simply could not get a fix on that little white ball.

Had I loved sports (instead of being forced to do my time by the Department of Education) I could have practiced and learned how to focus my eyes and maybe even make contact.

Learning to focus on anything, foregoing all the distractions, takes practice.

Even focusing on the Lord takes patience and lots and lots of practice. Without focus on Him, everything becomes a blur, and we forget our purpose–to glorify God in all we do.

But we first have to love Him, and in order to love Him, we have to know Him.

We have to forego other things in order to spend with Him, practicing His presence, hearing His voice.

But so much…life….can get in the way.

So much of our pains and sorrows and worries and temptations and earthly goals take us away from our time with the Lord.  Maybe we’ve been offended by God and we’ve allowed that to create distance.  Maybe it’s sin we’ve allowed to settle in our lives.  An unforgiveness.  A bitterness.  Maybe we’ve just let the little daily urgencies of life keep pushing out what’s most important.   

We can forget that those things that trouble us are not the problem, but only a temporary tool used in the hands of a loving and gracious God to bring us to full maturity.  We can forget that He is fully capable of handling them and that we don’t need to let them overcome us.  We can place them at Jesus’ feet and look into His eyes.

We can choose to take our eyes off those things…off the crowd, off the other team, off the world…and put them back on Jesus.  Back on the ball.  Only then will we find success—peace and joy and real love–in the kingdom of God.  Only then will we be able lay up real treasures in heaven where this life will be but a distant memory, and eternity will be more real than this life ever was, where our reward is waiting with Him.

I love how Francis Chan puts it in this short video:

Blessings and Peace,

The Best Things In Life Are Free

Posted on by Dorci

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:19-21

They say the best things in life are free.  Yet every year the day after Thanksgiving (well, now you barely have time to eat your last bite of pumpkin pie) the stores open and people rush the gates like race horses at the Kentucky Derby.  Even now there are people everywhere still scrambling to find that last perfect present or two.

I wonder if we really do believe the best things in life are free.  All the frenzied waving of credit cards is really just a distraction, a way to make Christmas mean something when we fail to make it about Christ. And it’s hard to do that when He hasn’t been Lord the other 364 days a year.

Thanksgiving Day I was in the kitchen, as I am every Thanksgiving, going about the cooking I’ve now gotten down to a science, when I stole a moment to take a peek through our kitchen window which faces the front of our house.  The streets were lined with cars that had brought family and friends to spend Thanksgiving with so many neighbors.  It made me feel just a little bit lonely.

I love my family, my husband and our two sons whom we’re still blessed to have at home, but we have no extended family we’re able to spend the holidays with.

I didn’t have much of a family life growing up, so it was always my dream to have huge family gatherings at the holidays, the house full of laughing, eating, cooking, and a dozen different conversations going on a once, catching each other up on our lives, our victories and our defeats, encouraging and loving each other, so that when the day was done we’d be as full in our hearts as we were in our bellies.

A long time ago, though, I accepted the house would be a little less full and a little more quiet. That it would be just the four of us, and I’m happy with that.  Still, I couldn’t help but peer out the window a time or two (maybe three) more and caught a glimpse of all those cars in front of so many other houses.

Instead I’ve filled the holidays with one of the few talents I did have: mad baking skills.  I started baking when my kids were tiny and we didn’t have enough money for store-bought birthday cakes.  I started collecting cookbooks and practicing the art of cake making, frosting, and decorating.  I bought all kinds of frosting tips and every food coloring in the rainbow.  I practiced my royal icing roses. My mouth full of sweet teeth had me quickly expanding to almost any kind of cookie, pastry and dessert you can think of.

And when the holidays rolled around I’d have a field day.  I’d stock up on flour and sugar and butter and chocolate and peppermint candies.  I’d pore through my hundreds of recipes of Christmas cookies and delectable desserts and wonder which to bake first.  Wedding cookies or Chocolate Peppermint Pretzels?  And there are always cream cheese frostinged cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning.

But now I have health issues that make it almost impossible to enjoy eating sugar or any kind of carbohydrate. Oh I can eat it, I just have to be willing to face the consequences when I do.  My family is trying to eat healthier, too.  So every year I’ve baked less and less, and this year I haven’t done any.  Yet we are inundated with messages that for Christmas to be Christmas we should indulge in one sugar-laced treat after another.  But since I can’t it’s just one more thing that can make me feel like I’m somehow outside the party peering in.

There are other things, too, that getting older make celebrating Christmas the way I’d like very difficult or impossible.

Sometimes, when we’ve been stripped away of so much that the world says we must have and do to be happy, God is able to show us what’s most important.  To see what the best things in life really are.

No matter what gifts I’ve been given, the best by far will always be my salvation.  Ultimately, of course, I am forever indebted to Christ for dying for me, and to the Holy Spirit for pursuing me, opening my eyes, and revealing to me my need for a Savior. Regardless of what I am not able to have in this life, eternity will be filled with family and feasting.  Relationships will be restored and my body will be perfect.  This life is only temporary.  Eternity’s forever. And I’m looking forward to it!

I would not have that hope if it weren’t for the willingness of some to offer prayers and the honest teaching of God’s Word.  Those were gifts to me, gifts I could never afford.  Gifts that are free.

And now I, and many of you, are in the position to be able to offer those gifts to others.  No credit card needed.  Some may not open their gift of salvation right away, perhaps for years.  But even seeds are gifts.  Water is a gift.

So maybe it’s time to slow down and allow those things the world says we must have in order to have Christmas be stripped away.  Maybe it’s time to give a gift that would last for eternity.  Maybe you’re a seed-bearer, or a waterer.  Maybe you’re a harvester.

Wherever God would have you be in the process, give a gift of your gifts.  Your spiritual gifts have been given to you to not only encourage fellow believers, but to bring truth to unbelievers.  There is no better gift than the truth that leads to salvation.

One phrase that I hear over and over every Christmas season that’s become a pet peeve of mine, is when someone uses the word Christmas in place of the word gifts.  “She won’t be able to give her kids Christmas.”  “They won’t have a Christmas.”

Even the Grinch came to understand Christmas when he’d stripped the Whos of all he thought would make them happy, yet their joy on Christmas morning was undeterred and unrestrained.

“That’s a noise,” grinned the Grinch, “That I simply MUST hear!”
So he paused. And the Grinch put his hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow.
It started in low. Then it started to grow.
But the sound wasn’t sad! Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn’t be so! But it WAS merry! VERY!
He stared down at Whoville! The Grinch popped his eyes!
Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise!
Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any presents at all!
He HADN’T stopped Christmas from coming! IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: “How could it be so?”
“It came with out ribbons! It came without tags!”
“It came without packages, boxes or bags!”
And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before!
“Maybe Christmas,” he thought, “doesn’t come from a store.”
“Maybe Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more!”

A little bit more indeed.  A lot more.  It means the birth of our precious Savior who came to give us the best gift of all.

So if you’re struggling this year, I hope you’ll take heart,
And know that the life we live here is only the start!
Christ was born in a stable for you and for me
And He died to give us eternity.
So wherever you are, whatever you do
Remember that Jesus, yes Jesus loves you!
He gave you salvation and that’s the key
To knowing the best thing in life is free.
So remember that Christmas doesn’t come from a mart
It comes when we let JESUS fill up our heart!
So store up for yourselves treasures in heaven
Give the gift of telling others how they can be forgiven!

Merry Christmas and God bless you!

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,