Jesus

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Grown-up Jesus

You know the words:

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed, the little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.
The stars in the sky looked down where he lay, the little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay.

The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes;
I love thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky and stay by my cradle till morning is nigh.

Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay close by me forever, and love me, I pray;
bless all the dear children in thy tender care, and fit us for heaven to live with thee there.

With “Away in a Manger” running (and running… and running… ) through my head, it’s easy to focus on sweet baby Jesus, laying calmly in a bed of straw, never making a fuss even when he wets his swaddling cloths. That Jesus is easy to love. He’s non-threatening, making no demands on my time or resources. Baby Jesus doesn’t ask me to give up my pet sins. He doesn’t ask me to love the unlovable. He doesn’t ask me to lay down my life for His sake.

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Following the Instructions

Have you ever suddenly noticed that God is telling you something, and no matter where you turn, you can’t avoid the message? You could open the Bible to any passage, turn on the radio, have a conversation with a friend, read a book—and they’re all on the same theme.

In the past, this happened when I was doing something contrary to God’s will. In other words, I was sinning. I could try to shut out my conscience, but God was truly the Hound of Heaven, pursuing me relentlessly until I finally gave up and repented. Every sermon, every devotional, even totally secular activities such as reading a news magazine or watching TV were a reminder that God wanted not just my obedience, but me.

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Extreme

Are you an extremist?

According to a U.S. Army Reserve presentation (now discarded) by the Department of Defense, if you are an evangelical Protestant or a Catholic, you belong to an extremist group. You’ve been lumped in with, al Qaeda, Hamas, and the KKK. You can read one news story here.

As would be expected, the presentation caused a huge ruckus.  After all, more than half of Americans consider themselves to be either Catholic or Protestant Evangelical. The Department was quick to backpedal, assign blame and make excuses.

At first, I too was upset. No one likes to be branded an extremist. Few people want to be likened to the KKK. But then I started thinking.

Maybe they’re right.

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The Holy Bible

biblclimWe should study our Bibles, right? Of course we should. It’s a given, obvious, no question about it. I’ve written lots of posts about my struggle with consistent Bible study, and the habits I’ve formed that help me follow through on my good intentions. Just recently I compared the Bible to love letters my husband wrote me when we were dating.

One morning I was doing just that—reading my Bible, underlining verses that particularly caught my attention, scribbling notes in the margins—when I noticed something I’d never seen before. (It amazes me how God can point out new things in words I’ve read over and over for the last 40 years!)

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Losing a Pillar

I’m attending a memorial service this afternoon for a person I didn’t know. And it’s not the first time. I’ve been to a number of services for people I either never met, or was barely acquainted with. Let’s just say it’s a bit awkward.

(The first such service I sat through, years ago, happened to fall on my birthday. Our plans for a special outing were interrupted by the demise of an acquaintance of Pete’s, who dropped dead while shoveling snow off his sidewalk. We endured over four hours of sobbing people repeating stories for which we had no context. I sobbed too—first because it was such a rotten way to spend a birthday, and second because I felt guilty about feeling that selfish.)

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Now Appearing: Jesus

There’s nothing like snuggling up with a cup of tea and a good book, especially with a huge thunderstorm pounding on the roof. It’s even better when you haven’t had a chance to sit down in days, if not weeks.

With my dad all moved into his new quarters, and a huge pile of leftover furnishings and other debris filling our garage, jammed into the family room, and clogging hallways, I finally chose to take a day off. I needed it.

So Monday I sat down with a steaming mug of Irish Breakfast Tea (my favorite) and started reading Dreams and Visions: Is Jesus Awakening the Muslim World?, by Tom Doyle. When noon arrived I took a short break to make a sandwich, propped the book up on the table, and read several more chapters. Pete arrived home. We reheated leftovers and I headed to bed, dinner in one hand, book in the other. I finally turned out the light around eleven—late for someone who normally gets up around five. And yes, I finished the book.

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Babies

Willow and Karin April 2013Babies. I definitely have babies on my mind this week.

Our granddaughter is visiting from the Pacific Northwest and I’m treasuring every moment. After 14 months, Willow’s parents have already lost a lot of sleep on her behalf. They’ve spent a fortune on medical bills (she was five weeks premature), baby furniture, clothes, diapers, and the gazillion other things a baby needs in our culture. And they’d do it all again, because they love her!

Our family went to a Chinese restaurant for lunch yesterday. Instead of ordering a whole meal for a baby, we each agreed to share some food off our plates. Willow enthusiastically gummed down everything from red bell peppers, tofu, and egg roll to mu shu pork and bits of scrambled egg and dried lilies fished out of my hot and sour soup. She ate a lot! Why would I give her so much of my lunch that I needed a snack when we got home? Of course, it’s because I love her!

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Don’t Muzzle the Ox

Young_oxen_Wikicommons-001

I’m in the middle of raising the funds needed for my mission trip to Swaziland this October. A number of exceedingly generous people have contributed to my church account, but I have a long way to go. I admit, I’m struggling.

It’s not that I doubt God’s ability to provide. Pete and I have a long track record of God meeting our every need, even when things looked humanly impossible. My God is a God of miracles.

It’s not that I doubt my “call” to go on this trip. God clearly told me to go. I hadn’t even considered going to Swaziland before I heard his prompting, so I know I wasn’t confused by my own desires. The way he has put his motivation into my heart confirms his direction.

No, the problem is that I have a hard time asking anyone for money.

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What’s In A Name?

“While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of Simon the Leper,… ”

I’ve read Matthew 26 plenty of times, and skimmed right over verse 6 on the way to the “good part”—where an unnamed woman anoints Jesus with an alabaster jar of expensive perfume. But as often happens when I reread familiar passages, this time the Holy Spirit pointed out something I’d missed before.

Simon the Leper. This man, who surely had other, more positive aspects to his person, was known to everyone as “Simon the Leper.” His disease defined him.

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Postpartum

Willow in NICU 2 wks1Tuesday, I wrote about how I came to follow Jesus. Today I continue the story.

I had been born again, but in a way, it was a premature birth. I just didn’t have a clue about what I’d signed up for, that my new-found faith was going to impact every aspect of my life. Still, it was a birth. I was naked and messy and knew nothing, but I was alive.

I had my first communion at an all-campus service on June 1, right before finals week, and was baptized in the lake on campus the next afternoon. I took my tests, packed up my dorm room, hopped in my car and headed home for the summer. Continue reading →