When White-Out Won't Work

A little allegory on a Friday night...

I am at a new school site this year. I have spent a considerable amount of  time going through the workroom in an attempt to organize and create space for supplies. While doing so, I have found a plethora of items. And, incidentally, enough paperclips to fashion a wedding gown (as a dear co-worker has said). 

Some of the items were pulled out from the depths of the drawers and cabinets could no longer be used, like dried out markers and the such. This week, I went into the workroom to get a bottle of white-out. The bottle was unopened. I removed the packaging, shook it, and unscrewed the lid. As I began to cover up the errors in a schedule, I noticed that the white-out was not gliding over the paper. Instead, it was gloppy and making a bigger mess. I went to the workroom in search for another bottle of correction fluid. The second bottle was completely dried out and useless. 

I ended up ordering a few new bottles of white-out and some correction tape as well. The next day, when I was unpacking the supply boxes, I happily gave the ladies in the office a new correction tape {It is the little things, people}. 

So, it came time to break in the correction tape. It worked. It covered the blemish easily and completely. And my mind went straight to grace. 

We all fall short; none are perfect. We all are blemished. During the Old Covenant, God's people were instructed to atone for their sins by sacrificing an unblemished animal. We could never do it on our own. We are like the gloppy white-out incapable of covering the error (sin). And, it would never be whole because we needed saving; we needed a Savior to be the atonement for our sins. And because of our Redeemer, our sins are covered. When we repent and confess our sins, they are blotted out. How wonderful! AMAZING! 

And, as I covered over the blemishes on paper, this song came to mind: 

White as snow, white as snow

Though my sins were as scarlet

Lord, I know, Lord, I know

That I'm clean and forgiven

Through the power of Your blood

Through the wonder of Your love

Through faith in You

I know that I can be

White as snow

And I could go on, but for tonight, I will stop here with this: 

{Ephesians 1:7-8} Because of the sacrifice of the Messiah, his blood poured out on the altar of the Cross, we're a free people—free of penalties and punishments chalked up by all our misdeeds. And not just barely free, either. Abundantly free! 

On Forgiveness...

Forgiveness. It is something in which we all have grappled. Sometimes we are the ones requesting to be forgiven; other times we are the ones granting forgiveness (even when it isn't asked for...). I began thinking about forgiveness this blustery afternoon after it was the topic of today's sermon. I was reminded of the time I led a two-part study on The Hiding Place (Corrie Ten Boom). The first part lent itself to the topics of evil and faith's response to social injustice. The concluding portion, however, couldn't have been on any other topic than forgiveness. I remember sitting with it for a long while, this concept of forgiveness that can be so arduous, so convoluted. So I thought I would share some of my notes/reflection questions from that study. For those of you so inclined, read on :-)


Sometimes things that we think warrant forgiveness (or we demand it), really just need grace extended instead. We can look at the intent and if there isn't a malicious motive, then we should excuse it and move on so bitterness isn't allowed to take hold of our hearts. Scripture instructs us to love one another deeply, for love covers a multitude of sins. Unfortunately, those who have been forgiven can be some of the worst grudge-holders. When we hold onto our hurt and refuse to forgive, we imprison ourselves. Corrie stated, “Forgiveness is the key that unlocks the door of resentment and the handcuffs of hatred. It is a power that breaks the chains of bitterness and the shackles of selfishness.”


The Cross can never be undone. Jesus paid the ransom. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Believe me, beloved, if the Son sets you free, you are FREE indeed. And what a sweet gift, this grace of blessed assurance. As far as the east is from the west, so far does He remove our transgressions from us. 


Forgiveness is an act of obedience that cannot be done in the flesh. Also, forgiveness doesn't always mean restoration of a relationship. The most obvious example of this is in relationships where there is some type of abuse occurring. And, part of extending the lifeline of grace is holding someone accountable. Choosing to remove the actions of sin off of someone is like cutting off a growth. True reconciliation requires confrontation. 


Questions for Reflection


1. What does God's Word say about forgiveness? Please read Colossians 3:12-13 and Matthew 6:14-16. Why is forgiveness difficult; why is it so important for us to forgive others and even ourselves?


2.  How does forgiveness equal freedom? How are we imprisoned when we choose not to forgive? What does that look like in our lives?


3. Do you think forgiveness is a one time event or more of a process?


4. Corrie Ten Boom wrote, "Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart." Can you forgive someone and still harbor feeling of anger or resentment? How can your heart change? 


5. Is it harder to forgive someone who chooses not to ask for forgiveness or say "I'm sorry"? 


6. Do you think forgiveness is costly? Explain (Hint: think of the Cross). 


7. Is there anyone you need to forgive? Is there anyone you need to ask to forgive you? What is stopping you? 


And, if by chance you are reading this blog and want to know more about forgiveness and a relationship with Jesus, please ask! 

Turning...

It is 10:38pm on a normal weekday night. I am tired, but also fidgety (an odd combination, I know). Instead of inevitably tossing and turning, I have been listening to hymns and reflecting on God's goodness and grace in my life. And we remember, lest we forget His benefits...

I remember going to church when I was a child. My mother would interpret for the deaf at Harvest. I remember the songs, the scripture, the falling in love with a Savior. Then church stopped. I'd still sing for awhile, but soon my song faded. And I don't know why it became dormant.

In tenth grade, I began sporadically attending church with a friend. I read the Bible and wore a cross pin on my sweater...I couldn't find my song. I went through the motions. I learned things, but my heart wasn't open.

After graduation, I became pregnant at 17, had a son at 18, and was married a year later to an unbeliever (after all, I was living like one myself). And I was absolutely miserable. Empty. Hopeless.

He is that Hound of heaven, though. When I was 21, I responded to His call. And, it wasn't effortless, nor was it easy. I got in the way. I vacillated between guilt and confusion. The guilt of my past sins weighed so heavily on my heart that I felt as if I couldn't be forgiven. But, after wrestling with this, God revealed His truth to my heart {Psalm 103}. I also couldn't understand why the seed from my youth didn't take root; what caused my soil to be rocky? But, like Saul, I , too, was called at a specific time (and His timing is perfect).

Today, by God's lavish grace, I know I am forgiven. I used to lament about the circumstances I felt were life-long consequences from rebellious sin, like being unequally yoked. But, when we turn from our waywardness back to Him with repentant hearts, well, there isn't anything He can't redeem. He is the Hound of heaven, after all. And, my story isn't finished {and neither is yours}. I still have daily reminders from that time. I pray for my husband's salvation. I pray for my children's faith. And ultimately, I trust in a God who loves them completely. So, we walk on, and when we stumble (when, not if), we can turn, be forgiven (1 John 1:9), and continue...Amazing GRACE!

In this season of Lent, as we move closer to the Cross, I find myself yearning to be at the foot. I ran across this prayer by Thomas à Kempis that I had written on a bookmark many years ago. It is my heart's prayer tonight:
Give us, O Lord, steadfast hearts that cannot be dragged down by false loves; give us courageous hearts that cannot be worn down by trouble; give us righteous hearts that cannot be side-tracked by unholy or unworthy goals. Give to us also, our Lord and God, understanding to know you, diligence to look for you, wisdom to recognize you, and a faithfulness that will bring us to see you face to face.

{And all of God's people said, "Amen!"}

The Ashes

It is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the season of Lent, and ashes mark my forehead. But, it is so much more. This time of moving towards Calvary's hill, this time of reflection and repentance, this time is crucial.

In year's past, I would pick something to give up during Lent such as coffee or chocolate. But did the fact that I went without a latte really bring me any closer to Jesus? Umm, no. Some of my friends shared that they weren't giving anything up this year, but they were adding instead. As I pondered this, I couldn't help but see how this could truly be meaningful. We add more prayer, more time in the Word, more service, more love, more Jesus. And when we have more of Jesus, we become the less. But, He desires all of us; He wants our hearts.

So, what should our responses be? Scripture says that we are to rend our hearts, not our garments. As a sign of grief, people would rend, or rip and tear their clothes. So, here is where we pretend. We say the rote prayers, we go through the motions, we give up superficial things that ultimately cost us absolutely nothing, but what of the state of our hearts? Rend: to rip and tear into pieces by force.

And what does this look like? This more of Him and the less. And being undone. And the rending of hearts that are contrite. And all this has become my Lenten prayer. I want to have a contrite, obedient heart.

As I left church tonight, there was a sweet fragrance hanging in the air. I smiled as it resonated in my spirit: I want my life to be a fragrant offering to the One who made the ultimate sacrifice.

And as I close, I wanted to share a link to the DeHoog family's blog {click here}. God has led them to pursue the adoption of Samuel, a four year-old boy from Russia with spina bifida. Kind friends, please take the time to look at their blog and say a prayer for them?

Blessings. xo.

Awestruck

The moon tonight was stunning; It was high and bright with a ring like a holy halo. By His word He hung the moon, and the stars that scatter into the expanse and shine like jewels are from Him. Even before that, even before everything else that was good, even when the earth was formless the Spirit of God hovered over the deep, dark surface (Genesis 1:2). Hovering, like a mother bird caring and protecting its young. And He thought of me (and you). And the very same deep calls out to deep.

It was set it motion from the very beginning, this plan for saving. I try to wrap my mind around it, this extravagant grace. And that the Creator of the Universe, the Holy Uncreated One, desires a relationship with me (and you). He loves us with an everlasting love and draws us with unfailing kindness (Jer. 31:3).

Tonight, I am in awe. Honestly, there shouldn't be a time when I am not in awe, but things get in the way. I have let things get in the way. I have, at times, taken the sacred for granted. I am thankful beyond words can express that God works in the midst of it all. I can look back and see the ways in which He has guided me. And just as He placed each star in the heavens, he has placed me on this journey.

Something is stirring within me; it feels like excitement. It has been awhile. All of my tomorrow's are in His hands, and simply knowing that truth brings such peace as I desire to know Him more.

Practice Makes Perfect {almost}

Days blend into one another and time passes quickly. Season after season and year after year. The boys I birthed grow in inches and independence, one already a man. I wonder if it is all enough. Enough attention. Enough teaching. Enough love. Yet, every day is a new opportunity. And in our brokenness is grace. Sometimes grace isn't my first response though, and sometimes I am not given grace in return. As easily as I can dissect the things that seem damaged, I can also see love displayed in the small kindnesses. I pray that grace-filled love is fostered and will grow as my family grows older. Tonight, I pray that I would have a servant's heart for my family, even when it feels like I am alone in this, even when all of my daily responsibilities leave me weary.  

And, I pray, like I have since I rededicated my life to the Lord when I was 21, this scripture prayer: That I would be a good wife; responsive. That my husband who, indifferent as he is to any words about God, will be captivated by my life of holy beauty. (paraphrased from 1 Peter 3:1-2). Because one day (which will arrive before I know it), my nest will be empty. And I want those days to matter, too. 

And day after day, it does matter. I pause to marvel that there is nothing that God can't redeem. All of the little things that seem insignificant, those are the things in which love resides. The deeds done without asking. Mushy text messages. Impromptu laughter. The quiet moments with his preteen head on my shoulder. It all matters. This daily practice of loving my family with Jesus' love spurs me on to love others as well. And if that is all I ever do in my life {practice loving the people God places in my path} then I will be perfectly content.

Storms...

It has been an interesting season. I'm really not sure how I would classify it, but I see growth and change. So, maybe this is finally the hope-filled spring that I've been long awaiting. 

Those of you who follow me know that this new year brought a longing to be quiet and still. Such things are not innate to me; they are challenging. Interestingly enough, I was sick from the end of December through Mid-January. I literally worked and only took care of the things that had to be done. Otherwise, I was resting. I would spend my weekends at home, drinking hot tea, and gearing up for the coming week. This was completely atypical for me. Usually my weekends had very little down time. Guess what? I am feeling better, but I am still enjoying quiet time at home. I see the benefits of this time. Time to not be hurried. Time for reflection. Time for quiet. Time for renewal. Time for Sabbath rest. 

Today's reflection: 

I heard the rain off and on during the middle of the night. I awoke to cloudy skies. Once again I thought of the clouds that had been part of a long, harsh winter in my own life. But, moreover, I thought about the purpose of the clouds that come in our lives. If we say that God is sovereign, then nothing that we go through is unknown to Him. I believe part of our suffering comes simply because we live in a broken world, but I also believe other trials are a testing of our faith (James 1). It is easy, isn't it, when skies shine bright and blue to have unwavering faith? What does faith look like when a storm approaches though? How does it change when a torrential downpour hits suddenly? 

I ran across this quote today: "Until we can come face to face with the deepest, darkest fact of life without damaging our view of God’s character, we do not yet know Him." ~ Oswald Chambers

Looking back at the most recent series of storms in my life, I would have to honestly say I wish I had a better faith response. But, there is also the learning part, right? We journey through to the other side of the storms, seeing God at work in their midst, and knowing that the next time we hopefully remember. Each time we will know Him more. And I want to know Him more. 

In closing, I am leaving you with something I wrote in September 2010. It seemed appropriate. 

He Who Paints the Skies

Hot air, heavy with moisture, weighted lungs respond without thinking.

Breathe, but don't think.

Gray scale landscape shaded to match the outlook. But what of the Matchless One?

What of He who paints the skies and gives heavy air chance to cry?

What of heaven that responds with peals of thunder and illuminating flashes and Creator's glory?

Eyes to see beyond the here and now, beyond the pain, beyond one soul.

Thunder-boom and shake up, begin anew. Cleanse, drop by drop.

Look up and see skies that sing (even as they cry); Clouds that dance (even as the bright sun burns deep).

Hues that seem too perfect for our brokenness swirl above and He makes the sun to set low, bow before Him.

And breathe in, knowing there is more, knowing there is love from He who paints the skies.