from the pulpit.

"a loss of silence is as serious as a loss of memory . . .
and just as disorienting."

--john render, quoting someone else

(sorry, i didn't catch the reference)

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"be still"

surrender

drop your hands to your side

cease striving

"and know that i am God."

psalm 46:10

more on light . . .

i want you to get a mental picture. or even maybe do this. that's right, try it out.

turn off all the lights in your bedroom, walk out of it and close the door behind you. turn on a light in whatever hallway you are in. ok, you're set. you are standing in the lighted hallway. now, open the door to your room.

yeah, so that's the whole game. but what i want you to watch as you do it is the light. not the actual lightbulb, but the light itself. how it moves. what happens with the light when you open your bedroom door?

God used this very basic "natural order of things" picture to teach me something about himself (and consequently, about myself) a couple of years ago. it was as simple as me walking into a room and thinking, "interesting . . . the light always spills over into the darkness. the dark room always gets lighter, not vice versa."

have you ever thought about that? if nature were different, darkness could spill over into light. but it doesn't. the light is stronger than the dark. more potent, if you will. the light always beats out the dark. always.

that should give us an amazing strength of spirit in considering the following truth:

"you are the light of the world."

when light is introduced, darkness disappears.

there is power in light. there is power in the Light.

darkness is cold.

i was thinking tonight about the verses in Scripture that talk to us about being lights. about how we are to shine in the darkness.

and i guess when i read that, i always think about the light part. how it shine like stars. how it engulfs the darkness. how it provides the ability to see things clearly. how it offers warmth.

but then there's the darkness. the thing that surrounds the light. the thing that makes a need for the light. it's around us all the time.

i know this about darkness.
but tonight i felt the darkness. and it was cold. and heavy.

there is a weight to the darkness of this world. to the Lord, i suppose that weightiness is ever present. it is a constant stabbing in his heart. but for me, i don't always feel it's bite. i suppose because i live surrounded by it so much that after awhile it just seems "normal". like i get so used to being in it that it no longer seems like it's in such opposition to me.

but it is.

and tonight i felt the difference between light and darkness. the war that they fight. the stark difference in how they move. how they feel.

sometimes the darkness around me is so heavy that it makes my light feel like nothing more than a flicker.

but at least there is a flicker. all glory to Him.

"But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light." --1 peter 2:9

reflections from am

i read the following this weekend. it's quoted in a book called story by steven james; the original source is soren kierkegaard's provocations:

"The difference between an admirer and a follower still remains, no matter where you are. The admirer never makes any true sacrifices. He always plays it safe. Though in words, phrases, songs, he is inexhaustible about how highly he prizes Christ, he renounces nothing, gives up nothing, will not reconstruct his life, will not be what he admires, and will not let his life express what it is he supposedly admires."

what powerful words. i wanted to write something about this . . . about how it convicts my soul. but then i remembered an email that my friend annmarie ("am") sent me regarding this same quote (she read the book a month ago). her words are honest and right on. and are much of what i felt when i sat and thought about this. so instead of me, you get to hear from her today:

"Wow...will i allow my heart to be convicted by such frank words. I sit here and think of all the talking i do about this life i want to live, these sacrifices i want to make, the places i want to be, the Christ i want to share with the world...yet here i stand in the same boat, holding the same net, contemplating what i should do next...throw the net again and try to keep this same old life working the best i can, or jump out of the boat, swim my way to shore and take hold of the hand that promises to lead me to a life of more blessing than i can imagine! Seems like it would be such an easy decision to make, yet I feel like so many times I have have heard the words of the Lord saying “Follow me” and as I have hesitated to reply he keeps moving on to invite some others.

I have been reading this verse in 1John 3:18-20 “Let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. This then is how we set our hearts at rest in his presence, whenever our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.” He knows my struggles, he knows of my hesitation related to my fears, my pride, my self absorption, he knows that I condemn myself as a result of those things… yet he says there is only one thing that is going to lay all of that to rest and bring me into his merciful presence and that is to drop our nets and pick up our cross to follow him. “In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14:33 . . .

Steven James envisions Jesus asking the question, “So what do you say? Will you follow me, or just keep admiring me?” But I truly don’t think that we can even begin to admire this sweet Savior unless we can look into his precious face…and yet if we don’t walk with him at his invitation, all we will see as we stay there in the boat will be the back of his head as he turns and walks away! Let us not admire from afar, but let us get close enough to touch and marvel at the face of Christ…he will be there in all that we do in the power of his name!"

--april 12, 2006

admirer or follower . . . which will i be? which will you be?

for marie

"are you ready for heaven?" i asked softly.

(it was an awkward question . . . or maybe just an awkward moment . . . looking at someone who is near death and talking with them about what will likely soon be.)

she slowly, but deliberatley, nodded yes.

(it was the first answer to a question that i had gotten all morning.)

i smiled. and happy tears welled up in my eyes. i don't think that she noticed. i don't think any actually spilled out onto my cheek . . . they just sat there in my eyes, blurring my vision of this beautiful woman that lay before me.

i sat there a bit longer, at times talking with her, at times talking to her, at times just looking at her, moistening her lips with vasoline, wetting her mouth that was so dry from lack of fluids, stroking her hair, holding her hand.

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i sat down by the lake for a long while, reading Scripture and contemplating the fate of my friend. the air was crisp from the breeze that came now and then, but the sun made it warm enough that you knew it was springtime. all the flowers were out, the dogwoods white with bloom. there were geese near the water's edge and every once in awhile i'd here the scurry of a squirrel in the grass behind me. i sat there for a long time. in the middle of spring happening all around me. in the midst of life. in the midst of new life.

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there was a long set of windows in her room. everyday when i would visit, i walked over to the windows and looked out into a lovely little courtyard . . . and past the courtyard to the lake on which the hospital is situated. the lake where i sat a few days earlier. it struck me one day how that wall of windows seemed to be a very distinctive divider between that room of death and a world of life.

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i have spent a good deal of time thinking, contemplating, questioning, reading . . . for many days i had a deep uneasiness, and a great sadness about my friend. i cried sad tears over the impending loss of her. but then one day it hit me . . .

i was focusing too much on the external. was it ok to be grieving her loss? absolutely. but what does Jesus tell us he looks at? what does he tell us matters? not the external, but the internal. not the body, but the soul.

i was looking at my sweet friend's body deteriorate, day by day, little by little. i was watching her eyes get dimmer, her breathing get heavier, her responsiveness grow less. but all of that was simply her body. what was going on with her soul?

i don't claim to know what happens to a person's soul as they are dying . . . at least in the days that lead up to death. but i know the end result for my friend. and i'd like to think that in those final days her soul was inching closer and closer to the gates. closer and closer to Him. that while her responsiveness to this world was growing less and less, her soul's responsiveness to heaven was growing greater and greater . . . that she was continually feeling more peace, more warmth, more excitement, more rest about where she was going.

i was seeing the death; but at the same time she was drawing nearer to Life.

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today was her day of arrival. today was the day of homecoming. she had told me a week ago that she was ready. and today she got to go.

"And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."

He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!"