Do You Feel It?

 Have you ever been prayed over? 

I mean “laying on of hands” prayed over?

I have on a few occasions, but the time I never will forget was when I was in the 7^th grade. We had a lay witness team come to our church.  It was a revival movement of the Methodist Church during the 70’s.  A team of youth and adults would come to a church for a weekend.  They stayed with families within the church and just witnessed through a series of meetings.  For the youth, it culminated in a prayer circle on Saturday night.  A chair was placed in the center of the circle of youth and anyone desiring prayer came forward.  Other kids from the circle were invited to come forward and touch their friend and pray for them.

In the volatile emotional world of teens, there was a lot of crying and soul searching.  The beauty of the chair and the circle was that there were no divisions.  Star jock had his hand on the biggest nerd of the group.  Cute cheerleader held the hand of the shy wallflower.  We cried and prayed and our youth group was never the same again.  At the altar call on Sunday morning I went forward and gave my life to Christ.  As an adult, I think it was an acknowledgement of something that had been transpiring since I was a child, but it was a turning point none the less.

In the scripture for this Sunday, I think back to that time.  Jesus is praying for his disciples.  Put yourselves in their place.  He has washed your feet.  He has shared bread and wine with you.  Saying it was His body and His blood.

Now He has told you that He truly is going away and some type of Holy ghost is going to take His place. And now He is praying for you.  You can almost feel His hands on your head.  Feel that as you read these words take from John 17:

   “Father, the hour has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you. ² For you granted him authority over all people that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him. ³ Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. ⁴ I have brought you glory on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do. ⁵ And now, Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I had with you before the world began.

¹⁰ All I have is yours, and all you have is mine. And glory has come to me through them. ¹¹ I will remain in the world no longer, but they are still in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name, the name you gave me, so that they may be one as we are one.

The word that kept coming back to me in reading this was “glory”.  Looked it up in the Greek and it means to cause the dignity and worth of some person or thing to become manifest and acknowledged.  Jesus was to about to be glorified. 

 You might say, he had been.  But you see, what Jesus had revealed of Himself was not a piece of lint in comparison to the majesty of His glory.  And in being revealed, it would in turn glorify God. Not in the earthly sense, Jesus was approaching the most degrading, humiliating part of His life.  

But don’t you see, we are to enter a Holy Week that traces the trip to that point.  All of Christendom was born on the cross that Jesus died.  Talk about glory!!

He tells God that glory has come to him through the disciples.  Take a look around the table.  You have fishermen, zealots, collectors – a rag tag bunch of men.  But men who have given up livelihood, homes, and family to follow an intinerant preacher.  They have glorified Jesus by their very presence at His side.

But Jesus does not stop there, He includes us…

  ²⁰ “My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their ²² I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one— ²³ I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.

He has given us His glory. He has deemed us worthy by His death and resurrection.  We are to be included.  Though we may never have seen His face, nor heard His words.  We are worthy of His blood and His gift.

Wow!

   ²⁴ “Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world.

Lord, I am humbled by this gift

Because right now, I see all those that have stood in Your presence between me and this time

I see Christians that gave up their lives for your Word to be proclaimed. 

That were persecuted for a printing a page from your Word

That came to these shores to seek religious freedom

I feel the hands of my grandfather and grandmother that took me to their little country church to worship

My parents that insisted I attend church every week and learn more about you

And the legacy that has burned in my bones and I have passed on to my children and grandchildren

May the flame never die!


Amen

Easter Truth

When I was a young mother, I was torn between two camps.  My fundamentalist friends were determined that their pre-schoolers know  the whole truth and nothing but the Easter truth.  The exact events of the crucifixion and resurrection.  All the gory details.  Their children had to know, right along with their colors and ABC's, that Jesus Christ died for their sins.  How else will they know what a sacrifice He made for them.  


My friends that swung a little further the other way, felt that Easter should be a time of little seeds planted in moist cotton balls, deep inside Dixie cups.  Watching and waiting for the new life that would emerge from the seed.   Or a chrysalis, ready to open, a new butterfly, symbol of metamorphosis - life from death.   Not a word about B-L-O-O-D or the C-R-O-S-S.   I was torn between the two, wanting to be the good Christian mommy I knew I should be. But somehow, I found my own stand.    I came to the realization that if my daughter did not know and love Jesus, His death would be just another sad story.  Love first, sacrifice later.


Twenty plus years later, I am again working with children and Easter is again knocking at my door.  But I am older and wiser and I see things a bit different.  I still feel the children should know and love Him, but they must also know how much He loves them.  For that was the gift of Easter.  Love came down for us at Christmas.  But Love died and rose for us at Easter.  


Here is a poem I wrote about my earlier dilemma.  A little dark and edgy, I warn you....

Easter Truth

Should little ones learn

In Sunday School rooms

That their dear Jesus died

A horrible death

To save their sweet souls

So with each sweet breath

They can raise their voices

To sing Alleluia

Symbols of that death

As common to them

As their dolls and toy trains

Their burden to tote

Until each of them speaks

The gory tale by rote

Sweet voices singing

‘Bout rivers of blood

Alleluia

Why would you let them

Play with nails from His cross?

Metal and heavy

With sharp pointed ends

Could put out their eye

Or might pierce their hands

So how could you let them

Play with nails from His cross?

Alleluia

Or let a little one

Wear a thorny crown

Could you bear to see

Their perfect skin marred

It’s sure to leave them

Wounded, perhaps scarred
So on those dear heads

Please no crown of thorns

Alleluia

Or dress one so young

In a blood stained robe

Perhaps torn in shreds

They’d surely ask why

And when they were told

It would make them cry

So let’s not dress them

In His bloody robe

Alleluia

In the eyes of a child

Crosses are made of gold

Worn about the neck

And robes made of satin

Or nautical suits

And heels of white patent

The only thing marred

On a small child of five

Alleluia

For He begged the children

To gather round his knee

His joy to watch them

Play with fuzzy chicks

Or hunt egg’s colored shell

Laugh at pollen touched noses

From the lilies they smell

His hugs to enfold the

Sweet children He died to save

Alleluia

The Maze

I am sure glad apps were not around when I was young. I had enough issues just keeping my nose out of a book!  I just love to play games. Sudoku, Crosswords, Hearts, Spades, Jeopardy, I could go on and on!!


But one I am presently fascinated with is a maze. I just started playing this app, so for now it is pretty simple. I hold my tablet more or less flat and tilt the sides up and down so that this little silver ball moves around corners and down alleys.

 Now it is not a maze in the truest sense, because I am looking down and I can trace the ball to the end before I even start. To experience a true labyrinthian maze, you would need to be following one incorporated in a landscape. You can find a few here, but there are quite a number of intricate ones in Europe, particularly in England and France. Hedges are maintained at a height higher than the average person. Twists and turns take you from what seems dead-end to dead-end. People have actually gotten lost in them and have had to wait for folks to find them. Seems funny, but I bet it could be a bit fearful for the person who was lost.


Life is a lot like a maze. We have all been at those points where we don’t know which way to turn. Many times one direction or opportunity seems the same as the other. We pray, asking for God to give us a sign, some answer, but often it seems He is silent. We start off on one path to find ourselves at a dead end. Or go through one of those episodes in life where we know we are traveling the wrong path, and we just don't care.


I belong to a small group of maze buddies. It just happens to be my Sunday School class at church. I have had the privilege of being in that group for the past 20 years. Some of the faces have changed over time, but we are all on this maze called life and I guess their mere presence there tells me that we all want to choose the right path. It's funny, but looking back I don’t know what I would have done without them. 


Times when I was just so tired of the twists and turns, they were there to encourage me. When I would get to a dead end for what seemed the "umpteenth" time,  I would feel like just sitting down and crying.  Sometimes, I literally did.  There they would be, putting an arm around me.  Many times crying along with me. Times when I was heading down a particularly thorny path, I would find them walking beside me.  Letting me know they had been down a tough road themselves and if they could make it,  so could I. Their sight extended no further down the journey than mine,  but they were there to share their stories, their tears, and their laughter with me. I could not imagine this trip of life without them.


And that has made all the difference.  In my maze, or I guess you can say…my life

Garden of the Mind

"We spend an enormous amount of energy making up our minds about other people.  Not a day goes by without somebody doing or saying something that evokes in us the need to form an opinion about him or her.   We hear a lot, see a lot, and know a lot.  The feeling that we have to sort it all out in our minds and make judgments about it can be quite oppressive.

The desert fathers said that judging others is a heavy burden, while being judged by others is a light one.  Once we can let go of our need to judge others, we will experience an immense inner freedom.  Once we are free from judging, we will be also free for mercy.  Let's remember Jesus' words:  "Do not judge, and you will not be judged"  (Matthew 7:1)."

                                                       Henri Nouwen

If I had to pick the one sin I struggle with the most, it would be this one.   Not that I think I am better than anyone else.  I think it stems from being so self-critical as a child and youth, that I have become a professional.  Over the years, I have become better, thanks to God – literally! – but I still do it.  I still slip and say a few things, but the real battlefield is in my mind.  Then, after I make my mental slice and dice on some poor unsuspecting soul, I beat myself up for being such a poor child of God and the cycle continues.  

So when I read Henri’s words, they hit home.  What if when I started mentally sizing someone up, or thinking critically about a situation, I just said “STOP IT”.  I think it is great to seek out the source of why we do things.  Rough childhood, low self-esteem, mental/physical abuse etc.  But once we find the root of the problem- just uproot it.  If I had a weed in my yard (at this time of the year, don’t we all), I would, not ponder why it was there.  I would not look up the variety or seek the source or wind velocity that brought this predator to my lawn.  I just take ahold of that sucker and pull.  Then it is over!!!  I certainly don’t turn around and beat myself about why it was there or how I let it creep in, I just keep a look out for that next wascally weed. Then when that demon dandelion raises it white fluffy head, I grab it by the root and pull.  I guess since I have you thinking along the springtime theme, you could put prayer, Bible study, and Christian fellowship in the same category as fertilizer or weed-killer.  They are pretty much the only weapons I know that are any help in this waging battle I am fighting in my brain-o-sphere.   

Wow!  I feel like a real garden gal!

More About Keep the Change

Can't stop thinking about being the limited child of a limitless God....

A few Christmas' ago, my husband and I found ourselves hungry following the Christmas Eve Candlelight service at church.  Now not many restaurants are open that time of night, especially on a holiday, but we didn't have a whole lot to eat at home.  After a bit of searching, we found a kind of greasy spoon diner that was open.  We had never eaten there before and when we went through the door, we knew why.  We have non-smoking restaurants now.  But back in the day, this was what you called a "smoking" restaurant.  You could tell by the nicotine smell that pervaded the carpets and the faint yellow tinge of the white walls.  As we sat, my husband looked over the menu, I looked over the crowd.

Really wasn't much of a crowd.  A couple or two, but mostly single older men.  Probably ate a lot of their meals there.   It made me kind of sad to see those folks.  Heck, it made me sad to be sitting there.  Kind of like being a lot of pitiful folks with nowhere to go on Christmas Eve.  We, personally, had a houseful of folks coming over Christmas Day, so for us this was the quiet before the storm.  But it looked like for these folks, this was their big holiday dinner.


A few booths over, there was a rough looking man who I noticed to be dressed up, in a rugged way.  On his table was a small, hand wrapped present.  We shared the same waitress, and from eavesdropping on their conversations (you know you do it), I could tell this man was one of her regulars.  They talked about their grown kids and what they would be doing on Christmas Day.  It seemed neither had family visiting that Christmas. Both had suffered some hardships and ill health earlier in the year.  Toward the end of our meal,  I saw him shyly offer the gift to the woman and her hard face light up like a little child.  She wanted to take it home to put under her small tree, to save for Christmas Day, but he asked her to open it up.  She did and it was a bottle of inexpensive cologne.  Evidently that was her "signature" fragrance and she thanked him, giving him a peck on the cheek.  He just beamed and in my heart of hearts, I knew that was the most important, if not the only, gift he would give that year. 

I suddenly felt like an intruder at an intimate family gathering.  As I looked back at this group of mismatched folks, I realized they were a family and we were the strangers.  I felt ashamed of my critical spirit and my blatant dismissal of these folks earlier in the evening.   I had judged them and assessed them a little "below" my husband and I when we first walked through the door.  Now I felt like I was sitting at their feet.

I looked at the fifty dollar bill my husband had pulled out to pay the tab for a couple of sandwiches.  Our waitress was back in the kitchen, so I asked him to leave it all.  He looked at me like I had lost my head.  Not because of the small extravagance of the act; he has always been more generous than I.   But perplexed by the fact that I had suggested it.  It was so out of my character.  I embarrassed him for years, bringing along my calculator so I could figure a 12% tip.  Scotch-Irish to the bone! We slipped out before she returned.


Later that night, laying in bed, we couldn't sleep.  We thought about what our waitress may have thought when she got the larger than expected tip.  We did not feel proud of ourselves.  We felt humble and a little ashamed that we had so much and rare were the occasions that we thought to share a little extra like that.  


I don't write this to brag, but to give an example of a "keep the change" mentality.  Offering time and help to someone that could never in a million years reciprocate.  Calling that elderly relative that can complain "til the cows come home", just because of the joy you give in listening to medical ailments for 2 hours!  LOL! Knowing you don't need them, you are about to pass up the table of little girls selling their Girl Scout cookies.  But stopping, buying several boxes, and then handing them back to the little Brownie, telling her to enjoy.  The joy in seeing her eyes grow big as saucers, jumping up and down, excited to tell her fellow scout friends.  Those are the kind of "grace-full" acts you will remember and the recipient will never forget.  


Leave the change and change lives.....yours included!

Exact Change

I was pissed off! I had been in line at a local fast food place for what seemed like hours, but in reality was probably five minutes.   I had paid for my order and was having to wait for my change.  What was the hold up!  I was late to work and had a pile of stuff to do on my desk.   I hit the steering wheel  in a show of disgust.  It must of dislodged something in my brain, because I finally thought beyond my frustration..  My change, that amount I was waiting impatiently for, was a whole 7 cents!  I was sitting here, food getting cold, wasting all this anger on a measly 7 cents!  What an idiot!


I shook my head and gunned my car out of line and into my lane.  Waiting on change!   I had never really thought about it before.  How much of my life had I spent waiting on change.   The more I thought about this, I realized it was not always change in the monetary sense, but change none the less.  Doing a job over and above what was expected, and then waiting to get my due, the praise I deserved.   Then when it was not forthcoming, getting angry, even though I was being paid more than enough for what I did.  Giving a gift to someone with that ever so slight thought, in the back of my mind, what they might give me in return?  Doing something special at church, trying not to look for the pat on the back, but enjoying it just the same when it came.


Why can't we live life in a "keep the change" mentality?  Instead of thinking what is due us, we think of what we can give and give it generously - no strings attached.  This may seem a bit trite, in light of Easter, but what if Jesus had thought the way we do.  What if He gave His life, then calculated how much that gift was worth? Put a price on it.  And then expecting some return on that life giving sacrifice.  What if He sat there with His hand out, expecting you and I to live up to that kind of gift.  But no!  On the cross, He said "I have paid your bill and you can keep the change".  Kind of a silly way of putting it, but you get what I mean..


And in light of his great sacrifice, why doesn't that translate to extravagant giving on my part. The recipient of that over the top grace. Right this minute, I feel a lot like the man in the parable who was forgiven an enormous debt and then hunted down someone who owed him a couple of dollars. To throw him in jail.  What a jerk!


I don't know about you, but I feel a bit bummed right now....

Walking Contradiction

Yeah there a lot of folks out there just like me
We are what we are and we are what you see
We go to the church we go to bars
We read the Word we read the stars
Dixie waves in our front yards
But the stars and stripes are in our hearts
Yeah you might see grey but we’re black and white
Not afraid to love not afraid to fight
We love our Momma’s hell raising Christian
A midnight running
Walking Contradiction

“Walking Contradiction” by James Wesley


Had discussions the last two days with friends, along the same lines, same questions….

“If Jesus came here and now, would I recognize Him”

I would want to say “Of Course”, but I sure have a lot of years of religion under my belt. Now that is not the same as a lot of years as being a Christian. I am an evolved child of God and I am glad for that. But I got a lot of stuff in me that might make it more difficult for me to be as accepting as I would like. I hope my ears, eyes, and heart would be open to the physical incarnation of God, were He/Her to pass my way today, but I am not sure.

I just read Peter’s speech before Caiaphas and the Sandhedrin in Acts. I can only imagine the sun-leathered face, the tousled hair, less than manicured beard. A man who probably dressed the same as when he was hauling his catch out of the Sea of Galilee. Speaking “educated” words, words that astonished and perplexed his hearers. Like someone else occupied his body – and that was exactly it - another One did. Then I think of Paul, a devout Jew. A learned man of Greek citizenry, spouting testimony about a blinding incident on the road to Damascus. About spending 3 days in a room with scales over his eyes, waiting for someone to come rescue him. Then another 9 years spent in and around his hometown of Tarsus, being taught by the spirit of Christ. Sent on a mission to the Gentiles??

Wow! Talk about fanatics! Talk about unbelievable, improbable, to the point of ridiculous men, professing to be apostles of the Messiah! You would have to be a fool to believe them, their stories, or their Savior. Fools for Christ. I think I have heard that before. Walking contradictions for God.

You see, that is what God specializes in. Choosing the least, the last, the lost. I am afraid my eyes may be open but just might not be able to see past the scruffy clothes or long ponytail. Or maybe I will not be able to hear beyond the poor grammar or theology that does not run alongside mine. I am afraid my heart will be so in tune with my expectations, much like the Pharisees and Saducees that watched Christ during those last days on earth. So that it slowly closes shut, missing the opportunity of a lifetime.

God lives and breathes and walks amongst us in contradictions. People that don’t look like us, talk like us, and, God love them, think like us. My prayer today, I hope everyday, is that, as the Body of Christ, we start being on the lookout for walking contradictions.

Yeah there a lot of folks out there just like me

We are what we are and we are what you see
We go to the church we go to bars
We read the Word we read the stars
Dixie waves in our front yards
But the stars and stripes are in our hearts
Yeah you might see grey but we’re black and white
Not afraid to love not afraid to fight
We love our Momma’s hell raising Christian
A midnight running
Walking Contradiction

“Walking Contradiction” by James Wesley



Had discussions the last two days with friends, along the same lines, same questions….

“If Jesus came here and now, would I recognize Him”

I would want to say “Of Course”, but I sure have a lot of years of religion under my belt. Now that is not the same as a lot of years as being a Christian. I am an evolved child of God and I am glad for that. But I got a lot of stuff in me that might make it more difficult for me to be as accepting as I would like. I hope my ears, eyes, and heart would be open to the physical incarnation of God, were He/Her to pass my way today, but I am not sure.

I just read Peter’s speech before Caiaphas and the Sandhedrin in Acts. I can only imagine the sun-leathered face, the tousled hair, less than manicured beard. A man who probably dressed the same as when he was hauling his catch out of the Sea of Galilee. Speaking “educated” words, words that astonished and perplexed his hearers. Like someone else occupied his body – and that was exactly it - another One did. Then I think of Paul, a devout Jew. A learned man of Greek citizenry, spouting testimony about a blinding incident on the road to Damascus. About spending 3 days in a room with scales over his eyes, waiting for someone to come rescue him. Then another 9 years spent in and around his hometown of Tarsus, being taught by the spirit of Christ. Sent on a mission to the Gentiles??

Wow! Talk about fanatics! Talk about unbelievable, improbable, to the point of ridiculous men, professing to be apostles of the Messiah! You would have to be a fool to believe them, their stories, or their Savior. Fools for Christ. I think I have heard that before. Walking contradictions for God.

You see, that is what God specializes in. Choosing the least, the last, the lost. I am afraid my eyes may be open but just might not be able to see past the scruffy clothes or long ponytail. Or maybe I will not be able to hear beyond the poor grammar or theology that does not run alongside mine. I am afraid my heart will be so in tune with my expectations, much like the Pharisees and Saducees that watched Christ during those last days on earth. So that it slowly closes shut, missing the opportunity of a lifetime.

God lives and breathes and walks amongst us in contradictions. People that don’t look like us, talk like us, and, God love them, think like us. My prayer today, I hope everyday, is that, as the Body of Christ, we start being on the lookout for walking contradictions.