Peace on Earth

It's early in the morning. The lights are glowing on the tree and on the fireplace mantle, a warm and tender reminder of Christmases past. It's quiet in the house now as my three not-so-small boys are still in their slumber. It's Christmas time, a time for joy and peace on earth. I'm attempting to capture the sugar plum fairies dancing around in my head...because something seems a little "off" this year.

Every year is a struggle to scrape and dig past the commercialism and consumerism that has become synonymous with the Christmas season. Somewhere between the green and red plastic trees and the "Santa, Baby" songs is a point. A very fine point that the vast majority misses. Every. Single. Year.

We tend to miss it because it is easy to miss. 

There is nothing in Scripture that commands we honor this Holy Night. There is no instruction to follow that even suggests it. A Christian will truly celebrate Christmas out of the overflow of the heart...out of the love that pours from a swell of the heart that was born in a stable 2,000 years ago. 

But somehow the truth of this story has been buried beneath a mountain of boxes covered in pretty paper and debt to the ceiling. Even Hallmark movies tell us we want Christmas to be about the heart and relationship, but we have to dig it out of the pile first.

This has been an ongoing issue for the believer in this country for decades. But recently, there has been another darker, more suffocating cloud hovering over this time of year. We seek joy and peace on earth, yet we are bombarded by the media of our day. We are immediately made aware of instances of adversity, hostility, lunacy, political failures, et cetera ad nauseam. Rarely do we see thrust before us for our viewing pleasure the soup kitchens serving Christmas dinner to the homeless, families by the hundreds supplying coats, boots, blankets, diapers, and toys for those who have nothing, or food pantries doling out canned goods to those fallen on hard times. Stories of prisoners kneeling by their bedside holding a Bible and a sliver of hope for redemption seldom make the cut for our news sources. These things happen all the time, but their stories are scarce compared to the shocking tales that "sell". We are inundated with the negative and anemic when it comes to anything positive.

There is a song that was released several years ago by Casting Crowns (one of my most favorite groups) and the song is entitled "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day." It speaks to the dissonance we experience this time of year in a way that for years now has deeply stirred my heart. If we don't quiet our souls from the noise of our consumerism, we'll never hear the bells.

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play
And mild and sweet, their songs repeat
Of peace on earth good will to men

And the bells are ringing (Peace on Earth)
Like a choir they're singing (Peace on Earth)
In my heart I hear them
Peace on earth, good will to men

The author is recounting the surface sights and sounds of the season. It looks good and sounds good - we enjoy the decorations and Christmas carols during the last weeks of the year (or most of us do). But in the next verse, we see his conflict - one that, if we will look introspectively, we can all identify with:

And in despair, I bowed my head
"There is no peace on earth," I said.
For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men

But the bells are ringing (Peace on Earth)
Like a choir singing (Peace on Earth)
Does anybody hear them?
Peace on earth, good will to men

If anything, peace on earth is a treasured, but terribly deficient thing. A cursory glance at the Middle East (particularly in and around Israel) and north Africa, as well as cities like Paris, Chattanooga, Colorado Springs, and San Bernardino will bring home the point. A skim of any major news outlet's headlines will help to solidify the point: men bring almost anything but peace to earth.

Then rang the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead, nor doth He sleep
(Peace on Earth, peace on Earth)
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men

Peace on earth is not meant to be brought by mere men. We are incapable. Peace on earth and good will toward men...comes from above. Good will toward men is initiated by God in heaven and exemplified by a Baby born from heaven. Peace personified has walked on the earth, and it currently resides in the hearts of those who bend the knee and bow their hearts to the King of kings born humbly in a manger.

Then ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Peace on earth, good will to men

And the bells they're ringing (Peace on Earth)
Like a choir they're singing (Peace on Earth)
And with our hearts we'll hear them
Peace on earth, good will to men

The bells of Christmas are singing that Peace on earth has indeed come, and until He comes again, we'll hear it only in our hearts. But this also has the desired result for the individual who opens their heart to the song: good will toward his fellow men.

Do you hear the bells they're ringing? (Peace on Earth)
The life the angels singing (Peace on Earth)
Open up your heart and hear them (Peace on Earth)
Peace on earth, good will to men

Pearl of Great Price

A diver descends into the depths and retrieves an ordinary oyster shell.

Kind of drab, really. Earthy colors, no distinct shape, and no particular abilities. It's just a shell. It does have a purpose, though. Its job is to house and protect the vulnerable and tender inside.

Oyster shells are somewhat like people in this respect. They have a hard, nondescript outside, but a soft, delicate inside. Even the Son of God fit this description in human form.

"He didn’t have an impressive form or majesty that we should look at Him, no appearance that we should desire Him." Isaiah 53:2

There is a soft parallel between the oyster and man. An oyster is made of two parts: the inner and the outer. The outer shell is the only part that is ever visibly seen...that is until the death of the organism inside. The tender, inner soft part of the body is likened to our spirit, kept hidden until the breaking of the body.

When a pearl oyster is opened, the organism inside dies, and most likely, a valuable gift is left behind. 

It's important to note that not all oysters make pearls...only the true pearl oysters (genus Pinctada) make them. But how does this happen? 

When a foreign object becomes embedded inside the oyster, the mantle inside secretes nacre, also known as mother-of-pearl, to isolate the irritant. 

Let me say that again: Something that doesn't belong there gets inside the outer shell. As a way to defend the innermost part of the mollusk, the mantle releases a protective material which, in effect, quarantines the invader inside the nacre. The end result of this process is known as a radiant pearl.

It's funny to me, to see myself in this oyster.

Sin invaded the human heart in the Garden of Eden. It's been there since the beginning. That irritant was present in my heart from the time I was born. From the time I became old enough to realize it was there, it was a constant irritant to me. I realized it was there, but I was powerless to do anything about it. 

Then I was reborn. Remade, if you will, into a new creature. And my inmost part became the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit. He was then able to apply the loveliest substance to isolate the irritant in my soul - His very own Holy Blood. 

In that single transaction, I was instantly relieved of the unwanted pollution in my soul. Relieved, but not yet free of it. It is still very much there, but it is covered. One cannot adequately express the tremendous difference that is felt in that relief. But oh, how I long to be free of it...and one day lay it at the feet of my King.

Rev. 21:21 describes the Gates of the New Jerusalem (in the future) as each set with a giant pearl. I don't mean to say there is a giant pearl set inside each gate. Oh no. I mean each of the gates are giant and are made from one solid pearl! 

"The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each gate made of a single pearl. The great street of the city was of gold, as pure as transparent glass." Rev. 21:21

The picture here is that entryway into the City of God...is through these trials, this covering of sin.

That pearl that is safely kept in my innermost being is ultimately a benefit to me that came from something painful. It is beauty from ashes. And one day, one glorious day, when this body is mortally broken, there will be a rare gift left behind. One with an indescribably soft inner glow that shines brightest in the Light of the Son.


Lord, I need help remembering that nothing in my life is wasted.

Not. One. Thing.

You are Lord of all. May it serve to glorify You and make me holy, like You.

Storms of Pomp and Circumstance

2015.

We are already a full month into it. So many feelings about heading into this new year.

My time on blogger used to include the liveliness of multiple conversations with blogging friends all over the world who had either gone through or were going through some of the same stages of life. Since most of us have resorted to Facebook for maintaining our interactions, blogger is now morphing into a sort of canvas of words for me. Someplace to not necessarily share with someone as much as for someone. Namely, me.

So I suppose I can use this platform to set out and sort out some of the thoughts, struggles, and sentiments I have going on inside without concern for whether it's something someone else would want to read.

And that's a little freeing for me right now.

This year is bringing so many changes for us, for me, that I almost can't fathom it.

I see these changes staring me in the face, much like a dark, impending storm on the horizon. It's still sunny where I am, but the darkness is coming. I can feel the cool wind of change blowing my hair out of my eyes and causing me to sigh deeply.

The feelings I get from gazing into a storm like that are very similar to what is going on inside me now.

Generally, I love storms. When we lived in Texas, it was impossible to miss the inky thunderhead approaching. You could hear the faint sound of thunder rolling across the sky, a subtle but distinct rumble that causes nervous kids to think of celestial bowling. The peculiar color of the clouds would excite the eyes as you instinctively sensed the energy behind it. These disturbances come upon us much more as a surprise here in Georgia, as they hide themselves behind the hills and trees until they are overhead.

But growing up, you could see it coming. From a level horizon, you could smell it, sense it in the air while it was still miles away. You could see the monstrosity of it before the danger was really present. And it was thrilling.

That's where I am at the beginning of February of this year.

Most of my impending storm is centered around my oldest child. I hesitate to say child because he will be 18 on his birthday this year.

Future me: go back and read that last sentence again.

The boy will be able to vote this year.

He'll be a senior this year.

Lord willing, he'll be taking some of his classes at the local college this year to go toward his high school diploma plus college credit. Not to mention driving himself to said classes a few times per week.

Now, I realize that there are millions who graduate each year in the U.S., and there are mommas with each of them going through the same feelings. But hear me out.

I recall sitting at our school table in his first grade year, with his baby brother playing at my feet. I still see his little face focused on the coloring page before him, going through blend letter flashcards, and singing "Old McDonald" with vowel sounds. I treasure the first time he read a full story to me all by himself. I remember he would do his "seat work" with one foot on top of mine, as if to say, "Don't leave, momma. I need you here."

I think about third grade, when he worked so hard to memorize his multiplication tables before the end of the school year, and then promptly forgot 80% of them over the summer. We never took another full summer off after that. It was Christmas before he had them down again.

I snicker thinking about the poem he wrote for language arts when he was in the fifth grade. Despite his age, he still hasn't let go of his Star Wars fixation. He's only added Doctor Who and Minecraft to it. And guitar and photography. *sigh*

He's not a kid anymore. Sure, he's still my kid, as he'll always be. But he's almost a grown kid. And he's my first one. I'm just trying to process all the changes coming ahead.

We've got SATs, graduation, and college applications looming. We'll be finding a photographer and a professional printer this year for invitations and parties. Soon afterward, we'll participate in a meaningful graduation ceremony at our co-op with speakers and cake and punch, with a table decorated just for him for his friends and family to congratulate him and hug his momma.

cool wind, smell of rain

My involvement in his education has abated over his high school years, but after next year, I will have no place in his education. None. No input in his curricula, no choices in literature, no knowledge of his discussions in classes. Aside from asking how he's doing and seeing grades at the end of each semester, I will be completely severed from his education.

cold sprinkles on my face, thunder rolls

Grappling with purchasing the best language arts curriculum or whether or not we should change math strategies seem so ridiculously shallow to me now in light of this encroaching tempest. But I suppose that in a few more years, even my now unsettled heart will seem minuscule. Compared to, you know, wedding invitations and rehearsal dinner.

Mercy.

Here's what I know about storms: they are indeed ominous when they are approaching, and they can in fact be very dangerous. As if that weren't enough, it is impossible to see beyond or around them until they pass. One never knows what her world will look like beyond the storm.

But with their demonstration of power and might, I know the storms are necessary. They are beneficial. And they will pass. And after the dazzling display of waltzing clouds, electric flashes, and thunderous applause, the sun will shine again and the fields will dry, and there will be peace both within the storm and after it.

Lord, help me to not forget that You are with me. You see what's in my heart, You know what's on my mind, and You care. Infinitely. 

Looking Back - Discerning the Future

I love looking back in history. I love to allow my mind to imagine what other times were like for those who lived them. People have always been just people.

But every era, every generation has its own experience - its own rhythm, style, and ambiance. When I was growing up in the 1970s and 1980s, it seemed difficult to understand how society could become any more advanced. We had already been to the moon, created realistic-looking movies and television (have you seen an 80s movie lately?), utilized cordless phones, developed computers that would fit on a desk instead of taking up an entire room, experimented with virtual reality, and witnessed the birth of the immortal Mac/PC war.

How could it get any better?

But it has. We have the technology now at the beginning of my fourth decade of life that would have left me speechless in my second decade. Phones aren't just phones anymore; they function as cameras, computers, and televisions. They send email, text messages, and Facebook statuses in addition to making (gasp!) old-fashioned phone calls. Our cars are now equipped with touch screens, talking GPS, satellite radio, gyroscopic cup holders and Onstar connection in case of an emergency. Our television sets can surf the Internet, stream movies, and rewind live broadcasts! In the age of VCRs, walkmans, and the Atari Video Game System, who would have thought?

Many of these things are such a great help to both society and individuals alike. Our new gizmos save us time and effort in getting through our daily checklists. The internet has allowed business sales and networking to skyrocket exponentially. People have more opportunities to work from home now. And who could discount the entertainment industry? Movies and games and music, oh my! All at our capable fingertips.

Of course, few would argue with the fact that technological advancement is certainly a double-edged sword. I won't even go into the dangers of the lurking pornographic industry available on the internet or the sale of humans into slavery utilizing the web's runways. This isn't the fault of the internet; it's the abuse of the internet. But that's a whole 'nuther post.

For now, let's just look at what technology has done to change our daily lives. Since we have so many gadgets to help us more efficiently tackle the tasks of the day, look at all the time we've saved! We have more time for other things now: dinner around the table every night, a spontaneous mid-afternoon visit with the neighbor, plenty of rest at night and...wait, what?

The CDC (Center for Disease Control) reports that "Insufficient Sleep Is a Public Health Epidemic" in this country. While there is a myriad of reasons for this, our efficiency with our technology is apparently not helping in this area. Forbes reports that 1 in 2 Americans don't know their neighbors' names. Half? Wow. It seems we also don't have time for one another these days.

I was pleasantly surprised when I looked up the frequency that families are eating dinner together recently. It seems some recent studies say that up to 75% of American families say they eat dinner together at least 5 nights a week. That's much higher than I expected to find! But when we examine what many of those families are eating together, it causes me to pause.

I won't get into a rant on processed foods here. Believe me, I could. But hear me out...if we have so many conveniences and time-savers, why do we (as a society) depend so heavily on pre-packaged processed foods? According to the Pew Research Center, 72% of Americans eat fast food at least once per week. Granted, some of these people choose to enjoy eating out, but I wonder how many do this for time's sake?

Now I realize there are other factors involved; the economy is one. Many families cannot think of life with only one income for various reasons. I know some families simply must have two incomes to survive, but I wonder how many of those reasons can be attributed to the need to pay for our more elaborate toys and material possessions?

Materialism is truly an unseen epidemic in this country.

And I'll just leave that there.

But here's the bottom line on our gadgets: I don't think we ought to rid ourselves of technology, but we should think more closely about how and why we use it. And how far we'll pursue to get it.

I was reading an article on Psychology Today website regarding the reasons and effects of materialism in our culture. Care to know this professional's solution to our materialism epidemic?

Gratitude.

The website defines gratitude as "an emotion expressing appreciation for  what one has—as opposed to a consumer-oriented emphasis on what one wants or needs." 

And it offers this for guidance: 

"Studies show that we can deliberately cultivate gratitude, and can increase our well-being and happiness by doing so. In addition, grateful thinking—and especially expression of it to others—is associated with increased levels of energy, optimism, and empathy."

I have a challenge for you (and me) for this new year. Why not make it a point, that for every negative thought or murmur that comes from our lips, we deliberately speak of something for which we can be grateful. 

"I really hate going into Walmart." (true story)

"BUT, it's close to the house and I'm saving a little money." Out loud.

Every. Single. Time.

"I cannot BELIEVE all this traffic!"

"However, I am still on the road, as opposed to the side of it either in a wreck or getting a ticket."

And what if we created a habit of this?

I'm game if you are. I think my boys will benefit from it too...especially when I keep the thought in, and instead let the gratitude pour from my mouth. 

I Met an Old Friend Today

Over my birthday weekend, I spent part of a day perusing the first book that established my “old books” collection. The title of that special book is The Journal of John Woolman, with an Introduction by John G. Whittier published in 1871. 

John Woolman was a Quaker that lived from 1720 to 1772. He was born in Northampton, New Jersey, on October 19 of 1720. He discovered a love for God's Word so early in life that he recollects sitting beneath a tree after school as a young lad to devour the final chapter of Revelation, capturing a glimpse of heaven. I know Christian adults today who say they can't handle that book. In his adult years, he was known for two main things: his tenderness toward all people, all life; and his actions in exposing and subduing the evils of slavery. Emancipation for the slaves would not come for almost another 100 years, but his writings, including his Journal, his lectures, and even his business practices spoke loudly and effectively. He and another minister travelled in the North American colonies preaching and teaching, and everywhere he stayed, he would get to know the slave owners and discuss the moral issues with owning human life. More often than not he was persuasive enough that the slave owners would free their slaves! The Journal of John Woolman was a primary source of inspiration for rising abolitionists, which of course ultimately lead to full emancipation. Further reading tells me he was also an advocate for the Native American as well.

One Saturday, DH and I decided to go for a drive up in the mountains. We came across a little town in North Georgia called Talking Rock that has little more than a short strip of antique stores across from an old train station. In one of those quaint little shops, I picked up a small, plain-looking book with the name John Woolman on the front. I noticed it, put it down, and moved on. A few minutes later, it was as if that book was whispering my name, so I found it in my hands once again. 

When I first saw it in the antique store, I had no idea of its literary value; I had never heard of John Woolman. I had no idea it was listed as one of Charles Eliot's choices of literature which belong on the infamous five-foot shelf of a liberal education, later to become the Harvard Classics. What made me fall in love with the book other than my initial interest in its antiquity was this: I noticed as I flipped through the pages that I saw the beautiful Name of Jesus Christ on literally every single page I saw. The Lord of Heaven was so much an integral part of this man's life that His Divine Presence permeated his life's record. Oh, to have Him so pervade my life that way! 

However, in a true lapse of judgement, I left the book on the table on which I found it. And I left. I really couldn't tell you why; it was just $10. I suppose I tend to use "need" versus "want" as a decision-maker when it comes to spending money, and it wasn't a "need." Or so I thought.

The next week was Vacation Bible School at our church, and I was helping in one of the rooms full of kids. The other teacher in there, Lisa, and I got to know each other that week, and we began talking one day about something that reminded me about that book. So I told her about it. And by the end of that morning, I had decided that I would gather up my kiddos and head back up to Talking Rock to get that book!

And that's exactly what we did. All the way back to that remote little town, I prayed that it would still be on the top of the stack. Anyone who thought that highly and lived so close to the Lord's presence, I wanted to get to know - even if he did live 250 years before me!

I was elated with my purchase. The smell of the old pages captivated me, and the few underlinings with a dip pen transfixed me. Whoever made those underlinings throughout the book was left-handed, like me. 

In the front is this inscription: “Charles E. Shepard, Fond du Lac, 1873.” 

Today I got curious, so I got my Sherlock on.

Because if you didn't already know, Google is a very powerful thing. 

I discovered one Charles E. Shepard who lived in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, in 1873. Who knew there was such a French influence there? Turns out some of the same Frenchmen who claimed much of the extreme north of North America also settled in Wisconsin. Anyway, Mr. Shepard was a lawyer there for a time.

I found a scanned copy of the History of Seattle from the Earliest Settlement to the Present Time, written by Clarence Bagley in 1916. On page 587, I found that Charles' mother, Catherine Colman Shepard, was the granddaughter of Nathaniel Rochester, the namesake for Rochester, New York. Charles E. Shepard was born to Catherine and her husband (Charles E. Shepard, Sr.) in 1848.

Shepard Jr. attended the Dansville Seminary and Canadaigua Academy, followed by Yale University. He relocated to Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, in November of 1872, the year before dating my book. While he lived there, he joined a law firm with his brother and another attorney. During that time, he also served as the library commissioner (he loved books, too!) and was elected to serve on the state legislature for a two-year term. Charles married Alice Galloway in 1881, and two years later they moved to Milwaukee where he continued to practice law until 1891, when ill health caused him to seek out a different climate.

Shepard then moved to Seattle, where he soon recovered from his illness. He was very active for many years in Seattle, but I think it's interesting to point out that he was a candidate for supreme court judge in 1910, and although he was defeated by the incumbent, ran a very good race.

At some point, the Shepards moved to Spokane, Washington, where he died on March 31, 1928, at a well-seasoned 80 years old.

This is the man who wrote his name in MY book, y'all. He was 25 years old one hundred years before I was born.

I've had this copy of Woolman's Journal in my collection for over a decade, and I have studied the handwriting on the first page many times. I wondered who he was, where did he live, and what kind of man was he?

Even though it sounds contradictory, thanks to Google, I feel like I met for the first time an old friend today. Very pleased to get to meet you, Mr. Shepard. I will treasure your tiny book all my days.

Value of Life

Notes on Apologetics study from On Guard by William Lane Craig, Chapter Two, Part Three

(*Use the "On Guard" category to the right to see all posts related to this book*)

Recap: Chapter Two of Craig's book is entitled "What Difference Does It Make If God Exists?" In this chapter, Craig asserts the logical conclusions that follow if God does not exist. Based on what we know about energy and the nature of the universe, and since all life had a beginning, it is inevitable that all life will eventually cease. If all is doomed and there is no life beyond death, then ultimately, life has no meaning, value or purpose. All things done (good or bad) will ultimately become nonexistent. Here is a link to a rather helpful article regarding the first and second laws of thermodynamics and the impending "heat death" of the universe.

In my last post on this chapter, we looked at the meaning of life in this regard. If everything in the universe is to ultimately meet its utter end, then life itself is objectively absurd, and thus has no objective meaning. This creates a problem for the atheist because he can live neither happily nor consistently under this axiom. Just because a person ascribes his or her own meaning to life doesn't make it true.

If you ascribe a certain meaning to the universe and I supply a different meaning, which meaning is correct? Remember we are talking about objective truth, not subjective truth. This is a "what is two plus two" question as opposed to a "what is the best flavored ice cream" question. One is true in reality (applies to all people), the other is a personal opinion (a personal truth). So if you and I each ascribe a different objective meaning to life, which one is actually correct? To the atheist, the answer of course is neither; the universe without God is objectively meaningless for there is no one outside the universe to impute that meaning.

This brings us to the next section of the chapter dealing with the value of life. In a previous post, I shared with you that Craig defines the value of life as having to do with good and evil, right and wrong. The value of life refers to our moral ethics...how do we know what is right and wrong, and how should we behave because of that knowledge?

"If there is no God, then objective right and wrong do not exist. As Dostoyevsky said, 'All things are permitted.' But man cannot live this way. So he makes a leap of faith and affirms values anyway. And when he does so, he reveals the inadequacy of a world without God." (pg. 42)

Under this banner of "all things are permitted," we are subject to all kinds of living hell. Rape is no longer a violation; child molestation is nothing but a fetish, a preference. The most heinous murder is in reality just as morally justified as paying it forward in the drive thru. Sound ridiculous? But if there is no God, then there is no one to define ethical absolutes. All things become subjective. Nothing is right. Nothing is wrong.

The problem comes when we must admit that there are certain things that seem "right" to us. Craig uses several examples to show this, and one of those is modern atheist Richard Dawkins. "For although he says that there is no evil, no good, nothing but pitiless indifference, he is an unabashed moralist." (pg. 43) He condemns all manner of offenses against homosexuals, indoctrination of children, etcetera ad nauseam, but is apparently blind to his own inconsistency of ethical relativism which says that there can be no absolute right or wrong.

Just as in the meaning of life, I can say what is "right" for me, and you can say what is "right" for you, but that doesn't make it intrinsically right or wrong. If it did, we could easily justify the brutal rape as a moment of intense passion and wanton desire. Child prostitution could be argued to be as innocent as teaching grooming or good table manners. Thievery is not "wrong" but simply a symptom of need. All things are permitted.

Most atheists can not and do not live under such pretenses. They still see some things as intrinsically good and evil, but do not want to admit that someone must be the definer of such concepts. We have already established that man cannot adequately be that definer - that leads to "might makes right." Who else but God?

Discussion question: Imagine a world where everyone believed that moral values and duties aren't real, but are just subjective illusions. How would it affect our legal and justice systems? Countries involved in warfare? Our social relationships? World business and commerce?

Without moral objectivity, the laws which govern our legal and justice systems would need to be constantly evolving and morphing as the culture moves through moral relativism. I believe this is the single most often used tool in the arsenal of the social liberal. It's the reason we take so many polls, surveys, and social media quizzes. This is how we (as a society) tend to find out what is "morally right" on many issues.

Apart from a God who provides moral objectivity, we are left to decipher for ourselves what is right and wrong. So if society says that homosexuality (social relationships) is acceptable, then under this banner of subjectivism, laws should be changed to reflect that. If enough gather together to say that perverted relationships with young children are acceptable, then it's time for the laws to change again. Should society (even a relatively small portion of it) decide that our government should be trusted enough to provide for our every need - even in exchange for personal freedoms - then the very foundation upon which this country was built would be ripped from its place in society and be replaced with whatever our culture has bought next. That's a very unsettling thought to me, but I fear it's where we're headed.

Countries involved in warfare would be governed by the same "might makes right" mantra, which always leads to the oppression of those who are not in charge. In thinking about the Middle East region and the war over land in Israel, my mind immediately is drawn to Israel's determination to strategically target the known safe havens of the enemy only after they can confirm there are no civilians in the area. Their respect of life is owed to their respect for God. If they were to operate under "might makes right," then they would behave more like their enemy...who seeks out death.



Next time: Purpose of Life

Heavy Heart Lifted Up

I was reviewing some of my older posts tonight and came across this one. I was startled at how much this describes where I am again emotionally and mentally...perhaps even more so now than when I originally wrote this.

_______________________________________________________________

Do you ever feel like you have so much wadded up inside that you just can't sort it out to even begin to explain it?

That's how I feel right now. I feel this "thing" inside that needs to get out; this desire to release all that is in me, but it's so jumbled up I can't sort it enough to make sense to anyone else. So I'm going to attempt to write it out so I can get it straight inside, too.

This is what happens when one turns her creative outlet off for too long.

I am overwhelmed when I read the news or (heaven forbid) watch the news on TV. The things people will do to each other...children to their parents, parents to their children, husbands to their wives, strangers to neighbors...it's enough to make me sick. It seems like every time I read the headlines, it's about someone's murder, rape, or child abuse. And it seems to keep getting worse.

Then as I mentally look around at just the people I know, most of whom are believers, there is so much hurt...everywhere. Marriages that are hanging on by a thread or, worse, are already laying in the rubble; rebellious teens making poor life-altering decisions; lonely people, good people, but aching for companionship and adventure and looking in all the wrong places; recurring addiction battles of all kinds; single parents exhausting every resource just to make ends meet and still find time to spend with their kids; a family turned homeless overnight because of a house fire.

I could truly go on.

These are the things that the world looks at and says, "How can God be loving and merciful and kind and still allow these things to happen?"

If I were to stop this post here, I'm afraid that's where I would be left myself.

That question is a very natural question, coming from a natural mind. In other words, it's a question that comes from a carnal mind. Earthly. Human. Because when we evaluate the perspective of that question, its source is from man only. It's as though our mind is saying, "How can God let this happen to US, to ME?" It's a human-centered question.

Perhaps the question could be better answered by understanding that the responsibility of the heartache we see is not resting on God at all. When we angle our minds a little differently and set the focus correctly, now we can see more clearly. The source of the heartaches is our own nature. If our flesh is riddled with sin (and it all is, without exception) then what we see is simply a byproduct of the sinful nature. Could we possibly expect Utopia, or anything like it, to come from a world full of sinful creatures? Impossible!

And what about the things that happen that are not self- or man-inflicted? What about the family who has endured a house fire and now literally has nothing but the clothes on their back? What about the husband suffering from deep depression because of the loss of his wife?

In Genesis 3 we see God tell Adam that because of his sin, the earth is also cursed. This included all of creation on earth, and therefore includes things that we cannot necessarily control. Things like the effects of time and disease that ravage our bodies, and fire that consumes our homes.

It's no wonder that Jesus said, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27)

He doesn't give as the world gives because the peace that the world offers is always temporary and subject to circumstance. His peace comes to His own regardless of circumstances. So He encourages us to not be disturbed and afraid when we see the whirlwind, the waves, and the deep dark waters that threaten to swallow us whole.

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)




For those who don't belong to Him, it's impossible to find comfort in these words. There are also bigger issues to be concerned about in that case; issues of eternal significance. But for those who are His, we have to come back to the truth of His word, His promises. He has left us His peace, and it surpasses all human understanding. He has overcome the world, we just haven't seen the ramifications of it yet because sin is still present in the world.

One Day, all that's going to change. Oh, I can't wait.

If you read my blog and have shared with me in your burden, please don't read this and think I'm overloaded with all there is to bear. Christ bears all, and I walk freely beneath Him. I count it an honor and privilege to share in lifting up others in prayer and petition for these very heavy loads. I cannot pretend to carry them any more than you can.

I'm just noticing a great rise in troubles and fears, both in the world and in the body of Christ. Sign of the times? Maybe. Part of life in a sin-ridden world? Definitely. Reason to panic? Not hardly.