These Are The Good Ole' Days

 

 

I was having a conversation with my daughter yesterday about the “good ole’ days.”

 

It was interesting to get the perspective of a 21-year-old momma-to-be.

 

I was sharing with her some of my thoughts of some images my mom shared recently of my grandpa (her dad), who passed away 30 years ago this August 21. I would tell my mom in a text Saturday afternoon that I look at those pictures and can’t help by tear up.

 

It’s the “simpler days” for me.

 

I looked at the simple house he and my grandma shared for most of their married life.

I looked at the simple backyard shenanigans with a simple bucket of water and a lawn chair.

I looked at the simple cars on the simple street of their simple neighborhood.

 

And honestly, my heart hurt.

 

Because nothing seems as “simple” anymore.

 

And then just this morning it hit me.

 

I have certain “memories” of my life growing up that I refer back to quite often.

 

Memories that include taking simple walks with my family around our house after a big Thanksgiving just talking and laughing - only to return to have a “second round” that always included pumpkin pie and whipped cream! There were no stores open to shoppers, no cell phones chirping, no pursuit for the “best of 147 selfies” to post on a social media platform that promises a “greater degree of connection”, but in actuality has in fact succeeded at promoting a “greater degree of self-loathing and loneliness.”

 

Memories that include family picnics where EVERY family member was present because it was a priority. Nothing else mattered. We didn’t gather to say we gathered, but it was something planned for and prepared for for months. Where conversations were had, and interest in others was authentic.

 

Memories that include actual “house calls” and not “random texts.” Where people spent time, extended effort, made meals, sat long, shared stories, celebrated big. A time when we looked into the eyes of loved ones and listened.

 

These are memories I have of my years growing up.

 

And YET my Chloe has memories of her own which include the same kind of images.

 

Where family gathered intentionally. Where seasons we slower and experiences were heart-felt and love was the only thing that mattered.

 

In my own reminiscing, I forgot that she, too, has a set of memories that are unique to her and the season in which she grew up.

 

And one day she will be telling her children of “simpler times”… the “Good ole’ days!”

 

And so I was gently reminded by a loving Savior this morning that time, though it keeps marching on and though the world is spinning at warp speed I have a great need to stop and enjoy this moment… the one right here. And yep - this one here too! And to understand, deeply that these ARE the good ole’ days. The ones we’re living in now. And by failing to savor them, we miss the greatest impact they will ever have on us.

 


These ARE the good ole’ days!

He Has Not Given Us Over To Death

 

I saw it when we came home from our short vacation up north last month.
And my heart sank.
I’d worked so hard on those flowers.
And most of them still looked vibrant. And beautiful. And thriving.
But there were 2 that were “actively dying.”

I attempted everything I knew.

I watered them more.
I added fertilizer more.
I trimmed away the dead leaves more.

But no matter what I did, they wouldn’t return.

My farming family would know what to do.
And in what seemed like a last-ditch effort, I reached out to them for advice.

“I’m giving up on them”, I’d say to my friend.
“I’m just giving up. There is no use saving them.”

But she begged me to stay the course.
“They are NOT dead yet”, she’d lovingly tell me.
“Just do what I say, and watch them return!”

“Cut them all back. WAY back!”
It was my only hope.
I knew she was right.
But pruning nearly everything - even that which seemed to still have a smidge of life in it - seemed unbearable. Counterproductive. Absurd!

Wouldn’t it be like starting over?

Yes it would.
And it is.
But it’s necessary.
The dead things have to go.

She would explain that in the current condition of the plant, too much effort is being put into producing healthy long, beautiful branches, when instead, attention needed to be focused on the health of the root.

She’d gently explain to this horticulture-novice, that I would be re-directing the flower’s concentration to what was most needed in this time of crisis. And sometimes radical pruning is necessary in order to stimulate growth and inspire vitalization.

Ahh yes.

And in that moment I understood something far greater than plants and flowers and agriculture.

Just like that dead, dried up, sickly flower arrangement needed tender-loving care from it’s gardener, I, too, need the same gentle, yet firm supervision and preservation from my Gardener.

And sometimes the scalpel is needed for the pruning.

And while painful, it’s necessary if fullness of life is the desire of a soul.

I saw it in the Psalm I just “happened” to be reading the day my sweet friend reminded me to prune back what I already knew I needed to do.

Psalm 118:17, “I will not die; instead I will live to tell what the Lord has done.”

And this after great suffering at the hands of wild enemies.
Suffering not caused by God, but allowed by God.
And always for the reason of making us better. (Rom 8:28)

And in the very next verse I see it. Verse 18 of that 118th Psalm. “But He has not given me over to death.”

He has not given me over to death.
By allowing the blade to cut He makes me better.
Because new life is produced from gentle slices that trim the unnecessary decay from the one who belongs to Jesus.

He has not given me over to death.
Because in His mercy that stems from His Fatherly love, he amputates in order to remove that which would ultimately cause an unavoidable catastrophe.

And He cares too much for me to let that happen.

It is true that we wouldn’t bother pruning that which we mean to uproot.
The vine we consider worthy and of precious value is the one we lovingly and graciously trim to activate growth. To awaken from sleep. To quicken to life!

What joy!
What divine reassurance!
He has not given me over to death!

As long as He holds the knife - I am actively pursued and deeply loved.
As long as His blade makes perforations that expose areas of corrosion that need concentrated care - I have reason for hope and gladness.

He has not given me over to death.

Ahh… He cared enough to not say, “I give up on this one.”
By any unwillingness to wield a sickle I might believe the lie that I am not worthy of being reclaimed.

And I am.
And so is this plant which I will love and nurture and restore to fullness of life.

Stay Warmed

 

The air was really cold the day we decided to take the Jeep with its doors removed to the store.

The errand was intended to be a short one.
Just one simple stop at Lowe’s to get what we needed and then, perhaps a stop at Starbuck’s and home.

Ahh… but it didn’t turn out as planned.
Three cities and six stops later, we found ourselves finally arriving home almost 7 hours after we began our journey.

To say I was cold was an understatement.

I could see the passerby’s giving us, “the look”, too.
I know what they were saying.
I was saying the same thing.
“Fools!”

And nearing complete sundown, we approached our home just as the temperatures plummeted to under fifty degrees!

He’d graciously put the heat on high for me.
And I was thankful for the sweatshirt with sleeves that served as conduits of warmth to my upper body.

But I noticed something.
(Thank you, God, for your lessons!)

When I placed my hands up to the vents, exposing my skin to the heat, it felt glorious.
And in an instant I was comforted and relieved from the harsh elements.
But when I pulled away from the warmth, I was all the more frigid and miserable.

Exposure to the heat source heightened my awareness to the damaging effects of the bitter cold.

My reception of gladdening warmth proved how dreadful the chill of night can be.

I recalled to my mind the numerous conversations I’ve had with friends as of late.
The honest questions for the ones following Jesus, “Why does the world look so ugly to me!?”

And internally and silently I celebrate when I hear it.

“Because the closer you are to Him, the uglier the world becomes.”

Because once you’ve felt the fire… the freezing temperatures of a sin-filled world become almost unbearable.

Because once you’ve experienced the pleasure of the fiery Presence… the enemy appears more dreadful in his schemes and tactics aimed at destruction and division.

And so the answer is to stay close to the fire.
Stay warmed by His radiance.
“Keep the fire on the alter burning.” (Lev 6:12)

There is danger to disengagement from the source of all satisfaction.

And once you’ve perceived this kind of delight, nothing else will do.

Sacrifices Being Made

 

I would ask him on our hike the other day... "Who in the world do you think planted all of these gorgeous wildflowers?”

There was such beauty.
And so much of it.

Bright lavender flowers companioned our three mile walk.
And all of this lovely - discovered just out a few hundred yards behind our house.

This.

And yet who planted them?
Where did they come from?
What was the giver of such luxuriance considering?

And it got me thinking.
This sort of beauty generally does.

What kinds of things are taking place for the Kingdom of God that we know nothing about?

How many hours of preparations are being made by the now wrinkled-faced sweet gentleman, fitting for himself a Christ-centered message for a small number of sickly patients shut in tightly to the confines of an elderly facility?

How much toil and sweat are being experienced by those laboring daily to build - one brick upon another - in the remotest parts of this crazy wildly spinning world, in a singular effort to be the hands and feet of a Savior to the lost who are in such desperation to hear about Him?

How many weeping prayers are being uttered by the single momma who’s struggling so intently to minister through her own brokenness, to the very ones she gave life to, and whose own pain she’s still striving to understand, while learning to trust Him more faithfully every single day?

How many sit frightened - but still come as willing vessels every day?
How many are crippled with doubt - but press on for what Paul calls, “the prize” that awaits the one who "endures to the end?”

All over… right now… sacrifices are being made. Surrender is being offered up. Love is being lived out.

And so much of it will be hidden by a quiet, ordinary and secret existence, that the masses will never know anything about.

Those wild flowers there in that field are the evidence of someones brave bestowal of loveliness.
Those beauties there in that field, obscured, really, by those who pass by on pavement only… never venturing closely to observe from the place of intimacy… the place few are willing to go… give testimony to the richness of Grace and Love.

There are millions of victories all over the world.
They’re happening right now.

And in those moments on that path, in that field, I know who to thank.

I thank God for the ones who selflessly pour out - often from nearing empty cups themselves - so that others may experience the same beauty they’ve have the privilege to see themselves!

Look Up!

 

There was a moment in our hike the other day, when Trevor rightly identified the difference between us as we walk.

He is an observer.
I am a missionary.

And it’s true of us both, really.

He has always been observant.

He takes his time.
He sees the beauty that is around us.
He stops often to snap photos.
He’s unconcerned about his pace.

But not me.

When I’m out there, I’m on a mission.
My focus is on the steps being tracked.
My goal is to get it done and check it off the list.

And then I noticed something on our journey this past Sunday.

My neck started to stiffen up.

The pain became intense as we rounded the last curve towards home, and just as the rain began to pelt our faces.

And yet when I lifted my head, the pressure was relieved.
When I turned my face upward, the pain seemed to lessen.

I had been on such a “mission”, and was so improperly fixated on my stride, I had managed to inflict unnecessary pain in my neck and back.

And the only real solution was to… “Look up!”

In Luke 21, Jesus is preparing His students for the coming of the Son of Man.
In His prediction of future events, He was lovingly preparing their hearts for His departure, and yet for His subsequent and ultimate return.

Take a look at verses 25-27, “…there will be strange signs in the sun, moon, and stars. And here on earth the nations will be in turmoil, perplexed by the roaring seas and strange tides. People will be terrified at what they see coming upon the earth, for the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then everyone will see the Son of Man coming on a cloud with power and great glory.”

And then look at verse 28, “So when all these things begin to happen, stand and look up, for your salvation is near.”

Ahh yes.
Jesus, I remember.
I just need to look up.

Look up - and be redeemed.
Look up - and find comfort.
Look up - and see His face and know it’s all going to be okay.

And Jesus said, "... when these things BEGIN to happen, stand and look up!"
I barely noticed the solution until I was rounding that bend nearing home. If I had only, "looked up" earlier, I may have saved myself some needless suffering!

We get so bogged down with worldly evil when we remain ground-focused.
All has a tendency to look like, “turmoil” that leads us to being unnecessarily “terrified.”

When we insist on keeping our eyes at foundation level, we miss a whole world… a heavenly Kingdom… He has designed for those who know Him and love Him.

And THIS is the reality we need to stay focused on.

It did my neck a world of good to shift my gaze.
Imagine the healing that would come to our very soul if we intentionally altered our eyesight!

Look For Him

 

She is so funny.
And so predictable.

As is her habit, my sweet Isabel follows me around all day long.

She is pretty content in the early morning hours.
She knows where I will be.
In my office doing my quiet time.
And she knows this is rest time for her, and makes her way to the little bed I have for her on the other side of my office.

In the spring and summer months she pretty much knows my routine too.

She knows I will take a shower and then immediately tend to my plants and flowers.

I start in the back yard.
It begins with filling up my watering can and making my rounds to all my potted arrangements on my deck.
And she knows this is going to take a while.

She watches my movements, with one eye trying to rest, perched atop our living room couch, and the other fixed on me.
And she so well knows my pattern that she rarely concerns herself with fear that I might not return.

But when I make my way to the front of the house… where she can no longer “see” me, even from her elevated position… her curiosity and suspicion get the best of her.

When I have been gone for longer than she’s comfortable with, she’ll go looking for me.
And this is how I typically discover her - sitting patiently by the front door - longing to catch a glimpse of me… taking great interest in what I’m doing, where I am moving, and how she can get close.

And it got me thinking.

What if we were like that with Jesus?

I’ve heard it said many times as of late from many who know Him well, “I just don’t feel as close to Him as I used to.”

But because I know His nature, I have to ask, “Have you looked for Him?”

Earnestly looked for Him?
Urgently looked for Him?

He’s not hiding.
He’s not concealing Himself for the discovery.

He’s busily about the world.
And those who, “…seek the LORD your God… will find Him if you seek Him with all your heart and with all your soul.” (Deut 4:29)

Scripture tells us that He, “…love(s) those who love Me, and those who seek Me find me.” (Prov 8:17)

He hasn’t left.
Perhaps He’s just rounded the corner and we haven’t quite caught up yet.
But He is still there.
Longing to be discovered. Recognized. Found. Identified.

Maybe we have a lesson to be learned from this sweet dog of mine.

When we feel He’s been absent longer than we are comfortable with. When we sense He’s far off and no longer nearby, maybe we can say, “I haven’t seen Him in a while… I must go find where He is!”
Taking great interest in what He’s doing, where He’s moving, and how we can get close.

In the seeking - we find Him.
In the searching - we discover Him.

He’s never too far away that we cannot, with intention and diligent pursuing, find where He is.

Come looking for Him today… He patiently and lovingly delights in your discovery!

The Valley: An Invitation To Hear The Voice of God

 

Ezekiel.

He had a commission by God to be a watchman.

You can read all about it in chapter 3, verses 16-27 of the book that bears his name.

The call on his life was heavy.

God told him, “Whenever you receive a message from Me, warn the people immediately…. If I give you a warning, but you fail to give the message to them, they will die in their sins.  And I will hold you responsible for their deaths.  If you warn them and they refuse to repent and keep sinning, they will die in their sins but you will have saved yourself because you obeyed Me.”

It was all about obedience to the call of God on his life.

And then I see it.
It’s so hard to miss.

Verse 22, “Then the Lord took hold of me and said, ‘Get up and go out into the valley, and I will speak to you there.’”

In the earlier chapters of Ezekiel we find that he had been stationed, “beside the Kebar river in Babylon.”  (1:1, 3:15)

He’d been along a river, but now was asked to, “go out into the valley”, and God would speak to him there.

I thought a lot about this.

Why the valley, God?
It’s lonely there.
It’s uncomfortable there.
It’s seemingly unprofitable there.

And yet it was PRECISELY where God would have him to be.

He had to get him quiet.
He had to get him sequestered from the crowds.
He had to limit the prophets exposure to distractions that might serve to disable him.

And the same could be for you and me.

I know the loneliness, friend.
I know the feeling of unworthiness.  Much more than you know.
The valley can often make us feel like maybe He got something wrong.

But He didn’t.
He knows just what He’s doing.
He knows the very things to protect you from, and He’s already created space in the valley to offer divine solutions to the battles you were never created to fight.

I love Ezekiel’s response, too.
“So I got up and went there and I saw the glory of the Lord… And I fell face down on the ground.”  (verse 23)

The invitation to a valley experience is always for our benefit.
There’s always something just up ahead more magnificent than we could have ever imagined!!

Keep going, friend!

The valley is the perfect place to hear His voice speaking life to your dry bones.

- Wendy Bender, Inspire Ministries, 2021

Submission To God

 

All around us is mystery.
Uncertainty.
We don't have all the answers.
Not one of us does.

And on a Tuesday morning in May my heart feels heavy.

“God, there’s still so much to do.  And yet I don't know what you would have me do.”

It's the honest cry of my heart as of late.

That one along with this, “God, what are You doing?”
And even still… “What is MY role in Your plan?”

Submission is an interesting word.

The word submit, by definition means this, “to yield, resign, or surrender to the power, will, or authority of another; to give up resistance; to yield without murmuring.”

It’s the Jesus way of living.  It’s how He did it.
Scripture tells us that He submitted to the authority of His Father even unto death.

James 4:7 tells us that we are to, “Submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee.”
And still somehow we forget that first part.
"Submit to God.”

Just submit.
Fully yield.
Resign.
Surrender.
Give up resistance.
Yield without murmuring.

And yet it seems so difficult when all seems so uncertain and unstable.

But submitting is admitting that I can not do this on my own.
Submitting is placing trust in the One who sees the bigger picture.
Submitting is surrendering the need to know now, that which will only make sense then.

Submission requires my full compliance even when the outcome is still shrouded in mystery.  Even when there are still more answers than questions.  It’s allowing His Holy work to be done in and through me to deliver divine results that only He can accomplish.

- Wendy Bender, Inspire Ministries, 2021

Peace

 

Peace.

 

It’s a funny thing.

 

And for us humans, it tends to be a conditional mindset and contingent lifestyle we posses.

 

We are inclined to say things like, “I will be more at peace when this happens.” And things like, “My mind will be at peace if this goes my way.”

 

We view our peace as conditional upon “right circumstances.”

 

But did you know, as followers of Jesus Christ, we POSSESS peace already?

 Scripture tells us that it’s a "fruit of the Spirit" for those who are saved by Jesus. (Gal 5:22)

 

It’s not only something we already have in our possession… it’s something we are instructed to maintain.

 

Psalm 34:14 says, "Depart from evil and do good; Seek peace and pursue it.”

Mark 9:50 says, “...be at peace with one another.”

2 Cor 13:11 says, “Finally, brethren, rejoice, be made complete, be comforted, be like-minded, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you.”

1 Cor 7:15 says, “…God has called us to peace.

 

We are to SEEK peace.

PURSUE peace.

BE AT peace.

LIVE in peace.

 

We are CALLED to peace.

 

And so maybe we can do some investigation into why we don't currently have peace.

 

Is it because we don’t have that new pair of shoes we want?


Is it because they took our favorite show off the air?

Is it because my co-worker is increasingly hard to get along with?

Is it because illness lingers in my physical body?

Is our peace contingent upon something happening or an experience ceasing?

If we don’t have peace, the best thing for us to do is

• decide why
• recall where it is we last saw it (where WE left it)
• repent our way back to it

Repentance comes from acknowledging that we mishandled what was to be in our possession the entire time.

 

Repentance means self-examination that leads me back to the very things that can secure my peace regardless of situations and circumstances.

 

Things like spending time with Jesus and the Word of God.

 

Returning to Him and asking Him for the help only He can provide.

 

God help us.

 

The time is urgent.

Your Fragrance

 

In our downstairs bathroom I have a soap called, “Fresh Balsam”, that I am obsessed with. It is, indeed, the single thing that remains from the holiday season and I’m not upset about it.

When I use the downstairs bathroom, which is regularly since it is the one closest to my home office, I use this soap… and I remember.

Smells do that for me.
You too?


They take me back.

They take me to a time and a place in my past.

This smell, in particular, takes me back to happy times.
Good times gathered around the tree with my family.
Joy-filled moments of snowfall, and cozy evenings by the fire, and gift-wrapping until midnight.

When I smell this soap, I am suddenly right back to those peaceful moments of loved ones and baked goods and holiday music and Christmas movie marathons.

Fragrance is captivating and serves to direct our attention in unmistakable ways.

And I thought about it this morning.
What aroma do I leave?
What fragrance is my life?

When others have an encounter with me… do they leave with the fresh aroma of Jesus?
When they spend time with me… is the fragrance of Jesus so evident that it takes them to a place of joy and peace? Does it invite them in to a story of healing and redemption, grace, mercy, and genuine love?

An encounter with you, dear Christian friend, ought to leave a sweet scent behind.

2 Cor 2:14-15 (NLT), “But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere. Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing.”

Eph 5:2, NKJV, “And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma.”

It matters.
It’s worth thinking about.