Peace in a Weary World

 

As I write this, a front howls through our area. Thankfully, only wind and rain fight with the untypically warm temperatures for the end of fall. They dropped with the front passing; sixty one to thirty seven degrees. I hear about the tornadoes overnight in southern states of Kentucky, Arkansas, Illinois. The death toll of historic proportions, the headlines scream, as well as damage we have not seen in that area in years. And maybe the longest tornado on ground, in history.

We're ending the second week of Advent. This week named Peace. Last Friday, as we approached Peace week, it flowed over me. Walking my dog in calmer weather in the evening, catching the Christmas lights, solutions vanquished problems I worked on. Being in God's will, I could say for certain, as it was second Friday in December, I knew peace and rest. It is well.

The next scene in my novel, my work in progress, I saw. I had lost seven chapters with an unexpected computer update a few years ago, so I have been trying to capture what I wrote and wondering if that is really the way I should go. I must admit, some days like the the lost chapters, I had lost interest. Many life struggles lived in the shadow of "I must write," making my novel seem like a mountain. I'll also blame Facebook, which is easy to read, and easily interupted. I felt writing a toll road that I didn't want to travel, but only occasionally. I sprint for a day, then sputtered off course.

This peace I experienced that evening told me everything will work out. My mission is with kids, now. My little patient has made strides over the past six months. I struggled at first as grief I had to suppress over another case and the temporary status of this case checked my heart. By day three, though, his small hand reached for mine and I think he hooked me by that jesture. He does well because I cultivate learning with everything we do. I lead the horse to water and finally, he has taken some drinks. I feel I am where I am to be.

Sunday, members of our family joined David and I in church. I chose the balcony so they wouldn't feel displayed. David and I had joked about sitting in the balcony since we started going there, so that was a reason, too. A wonderful service about peace awaited us. The choir's Silent Night enveloped me. My soul soared like the notes reaching the rafters. Peace.

I carried that peace all day and into Monday. Even the thank you note mentioned they felt peace this weekend staying with us and they felt I created it. Peace has to be within. Peace that passes all understanding.

Yet, Tuesday, circumstances threatened peace. Sickness, death, threats, society not recognizing their sin flooded my mind. I wrote, “I heard the bells on Christmas Day. So much sadness this day and praying. But God is not dead those bells ring out. Peace on earth, good will to man.

“Our Lord is the calm in the storm, the Comforter, the Healer, the Lover of our souls. Now, that's Good News.”

Peace comes with the reason Jesus, a King born a Baby, grew up to be the sacrifice for the sin of the world. His blood changes our sin DNA and we become new creations, in His blood line, now. The angels declared it to the shepherds on that night two thousand years ago. God showed up to the outcasts and He will show up for you. He says, “Peace unto you, with whom I am well pleased.”

The storms do not go away. The Light shines through the storm, only because of Christ. He brings eternal peace in relationship with the Prince of Peace. Enter into that relationship and go deep with the Lord. Peace will not be shaken as you learn more of Him and His eternal peace.

Casting Crowns - I Heard The Bells on Christmas Day Live - YouTube

Acknowledgment: Henry W. Longfellow, and my minister, Rick Stauffer.

Destitution

 

I pray for destitution this Advent season. Wow! That's a weird prayer. I blame it on My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers. May we be destitute.

This past Sunday morning I was led to this. I read Psalm 24. The whole earth is the Lord's and all that is in it. It begs the question, Who can go to His mountain? Those with clean hands and pure hearts. Well, who really is that?

The last few days, I was reading Matthew 27 about the trial and crucifixion of Jesus. Saturday, I read Psalm 22. The words of this Psalm specifically spell out what Jesus experienced, even though they were written many years before- a prophecy of King David's. I can't imagine what David envisioned or lived, to “see” these words. All this points to the Cross, the Great Exchange, the only action that makes a new heart. I had been thinking on the sacrifice.

That is how we go to the mountain of God, by way of the Cross. Our hands are pure because Christ took our sins. I sat to contemplate this after reading Psalm 24. I wrote to God that morning, “You are so great, yet You invite us not only into Your presence, but to be Your dwelling place, Your presence. - Wow! The greatness of You in me, a broken, clay vessel. I should fall, prostrate. I don't want to give up. Fill me more.”

I continued to pray for revival. I'm not praying for a hoopla experience, a flash in the pan. I want one that changes hearts. We may become new hearts, new creations. I finished for us older believers, crack the stone off our hearts.

The Gospel of Mark begins with preparing the way of the Lord, make His paths straight. John the Baptist called Israel to repentance. He baptized with water of repentance. Jesus baptizes with fire. A little later in the chapter, Jesus' water baptism from John shows His identification with us in repentance. His Emmanuel, one hundred percent Man and one hundred percent God, perfect, carried through the water baptism of repentance in preparation for the Cross, where He took on our sin DNA. With this, Jesus forms new hearts- Happy Advent.

This exchange makes us all level. We all sin and we are all on the same level as the worse sinner. This is where Oswald Chambers comes in. “The Gospel of the grace of God awakens an intense longing in human souls and an equally intense resentment, because the revelation which it brings is not palatable. There is a certain pride in man that will give and give, but to come and accept is another thing. ...do not humiliate me to the level of the most hell-deserving sinner.”

We need to be destitute. We need to see our great need, or God cannot work with us. We can only “enter into His Kingdom through the door of destitution.” - Oswald Chambers, again.

All of us are not OK. We all need Jesus. We all need the Cross. We humble ourselves to accept what we cannot do on our own. We should have the sense of need only One can fulfill. Like in The Christmas Carol, facing our own death may bring us to new life- the Ebeneezer Scrooge moment. This Advent, I pray we are all destitute. May a revival break out. Admit our need, we are never worthy, yet God in mercy made a way for all people through His Son on the Cross.

Changed hearts or new hearts, for that I pray. Make us destitute- Make us destitute, to be full in Jesus.

Seasons' Colors

                                               Just like that Spring is over

                                                    and summer has come.

                                                  Fallen blooms brown

                                                 crushed on the ground

                                                  Spring has death, too, 

                                                   in a display of color.

                                                Gives way to green

                                         unlike the colors following fall 

                                   giving way to white or dull. 

2021 Word Picture Reveal

Home

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVbPgBGv2to 

Who could have guessed what kind of year 2020 would have been? Maybe Home should have been the word last year, but 2019 was not 2020. Praying 2021 is not 2020.

Home, though, we have grown used to. I look at it this year as the refuge it is to be. We come home. Home can be a sanctuary where are yoked with Jesus. Courage can be built at home. Abundance starts at home. We rest at home. We walk through the door to hope. Our dreams may start in the safety of home, even if the dream makes us soar from home. There is glory at home. Shalom will be on homes as we trust in Jesus. I will write the light at home.

As I have spent more time at home these past months, masking myself deters my wanting to leave. I do walk often. As I noticed families more this year being outside together, I felt nostalgia. Seeing kids riding bikes, roller blading or skate boarding reminded me of home when I grew up. I picked this area, as less hills and being close to Buhl Farm Park would lend itself to those kind of activities for my kids. This picture screams HOME to me. The dog knows he's home. My son-in-law powered washed it that day. I see hope, shalom, glory in my home. I see improvement. I see writing the light there. Dreams will come to pass there. More than shelter, I feel courage to grow. Celebrate me home.