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I am reading along in the Bible and …

WHAT DID I JUST READ?

The Lord spoke to Moses, as one speaks to a friend.

Exodus 33:11

Moses is having a one-on-one session with God … nothing too wild or crazy about that … then there is that line that makes my head shake.

I read it again … and again.

God

Creator

Redeemer

Judge

Master

Healer

Almighty

Most High

Shepherd

… friend?

I can easily see God as the warm and welcoming (and disciplinarian) father, who loves, comforts and leads my life. To see him as a friend … that is not so easy to comprehend.

I immediately sought out understanding from various Bible commentaries, most of which seemed consumed with the ‘face to face’ part … as though the physical position of God (did he appear in human form? did Moses see the face of God? how could Moses still be alive if he saw God’s very face?).

The physical was not where my amazement and imagination took flight, it was the relational. The very God of creation spoke to Moses, as one speaks to a friend.

This exchange occurred not long after God’s own people, the Israelites … tapping their toes and thinking that Moses was taking too long up Mount Sinai getting God’s top ten commandments, had a golden calf constructed so that they could have a shiny new god to pray to.

And what did Moses say to God? He intervened for those impatient, ungrateful Israelites. Moses even had the nerve to ask God to accompany them on the rest of their journey.

Moses was growing into the leadership position that God had ordained for him! His confidence, not in himself, but in the plan of God was firm.

“The Lord spoke to Moses, as one speaks to a friend.”

Now, take note (as I did) that it was God who spoke as a friend, not Moses. God set the pace. God was experiencing and wanting Moses to experience something unique, different from so many others.

Was God delighting in the faith of Moses? In his leadership abilities? Or was God delighting in his heart … was Moses heart transforming into a heart like God’s?

Kinda makes you want a heart like that … as one after the heart of God.

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In the Pacific Northwest it is storm season. The torrential rains and the strong winds appear usually from November to December. Some years the impact is barely noticeable, whereas other years they provide enough impact for headlines such as STORM OF THE DECADE (or CENTURY).

While listening to the weather forecast this morning I heard about successive storms expected to hit our coast over the next few days …

and I got so excited!

Just like last evening, while out with a friend for a walk and coffee. When we started walking back to where our cars were parked (three or four blocks away) the heavens opened up and lightening flashed brightly in the distance. We sought temporary refuge under an awning, enjoying the light and sound show until the rains eased.

It was spectacular.

Just like the ones to hit our coast, just like all such storms, it eventually passed.

The next morning I awoke to a bright sunrise … the calm after the storm.

Storms in our lives … the kind that flatten us, leave us with more questions than answers, the kind that can skew our hopes and throw our future plans and dreams up in the air … those storms aren’t as delightful or entertaining as a thunder and lightening night sky performance.

Yet, like thunder and lightening, like wind and rain, these storms of life come and they eventually touch us all.

I don’t have wise and life-changing words for such storms. I cannot say that the loved one will be healed, that the money will be there, that the stress and anxiety of your life will dissipate.

I can tell you, from my faith and experience of the storms of life and of the God of all … you are not alone. Even when it may feel that you are out to sea in a dingy, paddling with all your might (or curled in a ball in fear) … you are not alone. He is with you.

When you pass through the deep, stormy sea, you can count on me to be there with you. When you pass through raging rivers, You will not drown. When you walk through persecution like fiery flames, you will not be burned; the flames will not harm you.

Isaiah 43:1-2

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I think that one of my favorite chapters in the Bible is John 15. It begins with the vine and branches, migrates into how the world hates the disciples and ends with the work of the Spirit. Though they may have three different titles, they are all about abiding.

Charles Swindoll says that to “abide” with God (the vinedresser) is being at home with him. I love this translation for it feels warm, connected … it feels like a choice.

Indeed, abiding is a choice.

Often the verse of focus is John 15:5 :

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you are at home with me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing …”

But verse 8, where Jesus says how it will be known if we are at home with him is equally important :

“This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.”

An apple tree cannot produce oranges, A grape vine cannot produce tomatoes. And a branch that is intwined with others, but not attached (not at home with) the vine, produces nothing of the fruit of that vine.

Though we may produce fruit in our lives, it is only because we are attached to the vine … at home with God.

I was remembering recently at time when, as a teenager, I met someone, who was sure he knew me from somewhere. He asked where I worked, and I told him I worked at Tim Horton’s. His eyes lit up, as he then named the location where I worked. He said that he went there frequently and always knew I was a Christian because of how I treated the customers.

As I remembered that story I found myself wondering … is whose I am still evident to a stranger? Can strangers identify me by the fruit of how I live my life? can family and friends?

is it obvious that I am at home with Christ?

I can only hope that the fruit of my living is Him. This comes only as I allow Him to produce the fruit of my connection to Him.

There are many who claim that name of Christ, but the fruit of their lives does not indicate that they are at home with the Lord. Our fruit is in what we say and also in what we do. We know this, because we can easily see the contradictions in their lives.

The most evident fruit of the spirit of God is love … if what we see from ourselves or others who claim the name of Christ is not love … they are not at home with Christ.

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:35

“God didn’t want me to do more for Him.

He wanted me to be more with Him.”

― Bruce H. Wilkinson, Secrets of the Vine: Breaking Through to Abundance


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As Jesus stood on a mount, delivering his sermon to the crowd, he taught them about how to live. Primarily what he taught was that our hearts should be pure, that we do good especially when no one is looking, that God is God.

In the midst of this Sermon on the Mount is a profoundly simple yet … profound instruction on how to pray.

The Lord’s Prayer has been called “a prayer of prayers”. When we prayer, whatever we pray, we are praying the Lord’s prayer.

I have heard of elderly people, immersed in their own world of dementia or Alzheimer’s disease, who sit, lifeless, in a chair much of the day. Then, when they hear the familiar words of the Lord’s prayer they come alive again, reciting what they learned generations ago (this is also a good reminder to ‘hide’ God’s word in the hearts of our children and of ourselves).

“The function of prayer is not to change God, but rather to change the nature of the one who prays.”

Soren Kierkegaard

It changes me … prayer changes me. If I am ‘real’ and honest when I pray (and how can I not? for God is not hearing my words so much as my heart) transformation of my mind and heart take place, drawing me closer to the heart of God himself.

When we are low on words. When our human aching cannot muster a whisper. When there is nothing left but the groaning of my heart … I pray, as Jesus taught:

This, then, is how you should pray:

Our Father in heaven,
Hallowed be Your name.
Your kingdom come.
Your will be done
On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
As we forgive our debtors.
And do not lead us into temptation,
But deliver us from the evil one.
For Yours is

the kingdom and the power and the glory forever.
Amen.

Matthew 6:9-13

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I have nothing left. I am just at the end of my rope … at the end of me.

Those were my words, my prayer, in the midst of a time of struggle, a time where I didn’t have the answer, the solution, the ‘fix’ for the problem.

As I spoke the words, at the end of me, an odd sense of relief was felt from within out. It was as if my verbal confession freed me from invisible, self administered chains. It was as if this was the most wise next step.

Baffled, that this peaceful feeling could accompany the equivalent of waving the white flag in defeat, I then remembered to whom I was praying.

“God resists the proud, But gives grace to the humble.” 

1 Peter 5:5b

Pride … such a human disease of pandemic proportions! And I am not always so quick to admit that I have been infected. I think I need to do all the fixing, the solving, have all the answers. Then, along comes reality and my pride takes a hit … reminding me that there is a higher power, a greater one, who has a plan and purpose that can come of the chaos in my life … and he doesn’t need my efforts, so much as my obedience, my reliance on him.

“Coming to the END of MYSELF and all SELF effort…seems to be the very point that God steps in and shows HIMSELF to be more than ENOUGH.”

John Paul Warren

That peace that accompanied my forfeit … that was God, as I submitted my ‘power’ to him. I still was worried, I still had concerns and I still had more questions than answers, but I had been reminded that I was not alone, that I did not have to do anything … except trust, stay close to him.

“God blesses those who realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is given to them.

Matthew 5:2-3

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chocolate, and sunrises, and beaches, and writing, and lilacs, and red leaves, and piano music, and doing new things, and getting groceries (really, I do), and math (uh ha … you heard that right), and my husband, and my wonderdog, and lazy days, and snow, and …

love …

a four-letter word.

the four-letter word …
love.

It is a noun, a ‘thing’ … like pizza, or a flower, or my dog. It is a verb, an ‘action’ … like a hug, washing the dishes, sticking with ’til the end of the movie.

It is a word, made up of letters, equal doses of vowels and consonants. One vowel whispering not a peep, the other masquerading as another. No one letter taking the center stage, but all four working together to hold itself together as one. complete. word.

This word, like the word, in the beginning of the story of humanity. Like that silent ‘e’, which is never spoken … but always there … always … here.

He said “where I am, there ye may be also” (John 14:3) …

who is He?
God is love (1 John 4:8)

where is He?
he (the Spirit of God) lives with you and will be in you (John 14:17)

why?
as I have loved you, so you also must love one another (John 13:34)

how?
live in me (love), and I (love) will live in you (John 15:4)

how he loves us …

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It was raining here the other day … like constant, cold, heavy rain.

Whenever rain like that comes my way I find my mind drifting back to a Sunday School song I remember singing as a child about houses built by the wise man (on a rock) and the foolish man (on sand).

And, did you know, realize or remember that it is not just a cutesy little ditty, but is based on a passage from the sermon on the mount (that’s a big deal):

“Whoever hears these words of Mine and does them, will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain came down. The water came up. The wind blew and hit the house. The house did not fall because it was built on rock. Whoever hears these words of Mine and does not do them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down. The water came up. The wind blew and hit the house. The house fell and broke apart.”

Matthew 7:24-27

My life … my actions, and words, and behaviors … not perfect … not one bit. But … since the age of six, I have been residing, while slowly building my life on the rock of Christ. Sometimes I have not appreciated it, sometimes I have doubted it, sometimes I have even resented it … but always I have had the firm foundation of the Word to guide my life, to give me comfort and a hope.

This truth I am standing on.

It has kept me steady when life has presented me with heartaches, questions, embarrassments, loss and instabilities of all sorts.

Because I have seen the evidence of God in my life, I can trust him when I cannot trust loved ones, medicine, finances, employment … because of this I can have hope and peace where the unaccepting world would see nothing but darkness.

Standing on the wisdom of the Rock of ages, for all my days …

“Right now I’m choosing to believe
Someday soon I’ll look back and see
All the pain had a purpose
Your plan was perfect all along
This is the truth I’m standing on”

Scared, oh I thought I knew scared
Now I’m so filled with fear
I can barely move

Doubts, I’ve had my share of doubts
But never more than right now
I’m wondering where are You
I’m on the edge of fall apart
But somehow Your promises
Find my troubled heart

Good, I believe You’re still good
Even when life’s not good
I will not loose this hope
The God who parts the sea
Promises He’s gonna
Make a way for me

This is the truth I’m standing on
Even when all my strength is gone
You are faithful forever
And I know You’ll never
Let me fall
Right now I’m choosing to believe
Someday soon I’ll look back and see
All the pain had a purpose
Your plan was perfect all along
This is the truth I’m standing on

My rock my shield my firm foundation
I know I will not be shaken
You remind me
Where my help comes from

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I admit that I am fully attracted to created beauty.

Whether it is a sunrise, a rose, a painting, the symmetry of a home or an old piece of furniture made new … my eye will behold it, endorphins causing a euphoric feeling throughout my being.

I seek this high in creation, in creating … whether it is the beauty of a sunset, tulips pushing themselves through the dirt, an old piece of furniture sanded down to it’s original cleaned wood, or …

the joyful smile of someone.

Beauty makes me happy and when I see it, I look for it everywhere. Not only that, but, like one who needs a fix from a drug, the more beauty I see, the more I need to see to maintain that level of joy.

This (I think) is one of the reasons I struggle with the deep darkness of the winter, when our daylight is reduced. I like to say that I am solar powered and the winter’s darkness hinders my ability to see beauty.

“What if created things were never meant to make us happy in the way we desire to experience happiness? What if happiness is found by gazing into the face of God in Jesus Christ, and walking in his path of light, life and righteousness?”

Dr Derwin Gray

It is the darkness of winter that reminds me of my priorities. You see, though the reflection of the creator shines brightly through the creation …

it is the Creator who I worship, not the creation.

Though the beauty around me causes the release of endorphins that give me good, happy feelings … those happy feelings don’t last as long as looking towards and being constantly connected to my Creator.

“Jesus Christ is the same
yesterday and today and forever.”
Hebrews 13:8

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It’s when I see a leaf fall, flowers fade, the sunset after dinner, feel the chill in the morning air. Autumn is here in more ways than just the change of calendar … and I feel sad.

Autumn was once my favorite season, with it’s red leaves, sweater weather and talk of Thanksgiving. It is the season hubby and I met and were married, the season when two of our three were born. It was my favorite season …

Then, for some reason, unknown to me, I began to see it, not as the start of something new, but the end of something loved.

Don’t get me wrong, I do still take delight in the cool breeze and changes in the color of the leaves, but … the seasonal change … it also seems to herald endings.

The older I get the more I embrace the heat of summer, daylight stretching into the night, bare feet, leisure time.

I recently read a verse that made me ponder these feelings about the autumn.

“And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither and whatever he does will prosper.” Psalm 1:3

Maybe that is it … maybe it’s the withering that is partially to blame for my apathy towards this once favorite seasonal change. Maybe I am starting to see myself as withering and fruitless.

It is so easy to feel less fruitful once the house is quiet of the daily noise of kids in the house. It can feel a bit like you’re a leaf that was blown off the tree.

Yet, if my hope is in God, if I stay planted near him (in prayer and in reading of his word), this Psalm assures me that I will still produce fruit in my life, still be used by him to do his will.

A number of days ago, hubby was beckoned to an elderly lady. Originating from Southeast Asia, Canada has been her home for many years. Now into her nineties, she spends her days praying.

all. day. every. day.

This is what she says is her calling, her purpose … and she fulfills it beautifully.

When hubby walked to her, she said, “I am going to pray for your family” and immediately proceeded to do just that.

“It was just beautiful. Something so special,” he said, when he told me at home later.

This woman, though very much withered physically, has stayed near the living water and she has not withered in spirit or purpose one bit. She is still, very much, producing fruit.

Kinda makes me want to go play in the leaves.

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Harrison Lake

There we were, sitting in a boat in the middle of a lake, “this lake is about 60km long and over 900 feet deep (gotta love the normalcy of Canadian mixing and matching of metric and imperial systems in one sentence).”

That’s a big lake.

And. I. felt. so. small.

and it felt so good.

It was like a correction, a righting of a wrong. For, in the vastness of our physical world, I am indeed small … insignificant.

When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—

    the moon and the stars you set in place—

what are mere mortals that you should think about them,

    human beings that you should care for them?

Psalm 8:3-4

I do not just not size up in my physical world, but also in the spiritual world as well. My God is so big (and all of us who grew up going to Sunday School are singing the words, “so strong and so mighty, there’s nothing my God can not do”). I am so small.

It is good to be reminded of the space I occupy versus the space available. The relative insignificance of me … the great significance of the creator of this world, of me.

Then to remember that he, who is great, sacrificed his best for me. So that I would be his, eternally his. Not because of something I … who am so small … accomplished, but because of what Christ accomplished on my behalf.

O Lord my God,
When I in awesome wonder
Consider all
The works Thy Hand hath made …

Then sings my soul,
My Savior God, to Thee,
How great Thou art!

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