Posted in Living this Life

True Treasure

I can still see him when I glance over at my living room table.

Beard full and white. Eyes full of the humility, joy, and the wisdom of a life fully lived for Jesus. One of the few in my life who was there when I was a baby. He and his amazing wife helped introduce my parents to life in Africa. A part of my spiritual heritage. He wasn’t my blood uncle, but there’s a lifelong bond when Africa is in your blood. So we called him “Uncle Gene”.

 

And there he sat, at my dining room table – laughing, telling stories, giving gifts, eating half frozen cheesecake with my family and sipping his tea. He gave me a fresh glimpse of Jesus that day. And then he was gone.

I didn’t know that day would be the last time I’d see him and get to hear his stories – this side of heaven. But I’m so glad we had that beautiful day.

img_5115

And I can’t get these words out of my head. These beautiful words from his wife as cancer was taking over his body. “All his assignments were completed and now he waits for deliverance to his eternal home… we are grateful. We have lived a full almost 58 years in God’s service and are thankful that He chose us as His messengers, weak and sinful as we are. But we are also redeemed by the blood of Jesus and lack nothing”

All his assignments were completed. Or as Jesus puts it, “Well done, good and faithful servant… come and share your Master’s happiness” (Mt 25:23)

This isn’t about death. This is about life! Your life, my life, right here, right now.

Come with me here – into another story. Because this too – this beautiful and strange juxtaposition of the things of life. This is what I saw, driving by our local taekwondo studio.

7502b774-cde8-4a65-a873-053be1bfadf0

I was surprised. We expect to see trophies and medals in display cases, declaring to the world our accomplishments, not thrown out to rust and be put in the dumpster. So I asked my friend why – why have all your trophies just been thrown away like that?

He  simply said they were his personal trophies and he was throwing them out because he didn’t have space for them and didn’t need them anymore.

I couldn’t help but think of the moment he won each of those trophies. Of the years of hard work, dedication, and practice that went into each win. I know him – he once told us that it took him 10 years of competition before he won anything. 10 years of trying and failing – before he landed the trophy. I think of the rush he must have felt – the accomplishment, the confirmation that he was the best. And yet, here they lie, rusting under the rain and sun, a discarded heap.

We all know the value of a trophy isn’t in the metal or plastic they’re made of. We value our trophies for what they represent. What they say about us. When the rest of the world rushes by and we feel small and insignificant, this symbol tells us that we matter. That we are good at something.

You may not be into martial arts. You may not care about sports at all. I have never won a trophy in my life … but I have built up a closet full of other trophies.

Those things we hold on to because they tell us what we want to believe about ourselves.

Those accolades that say we are important.

The applause of our peers, the affirmation of our parents, the “good works” that we hope others will see, that big house or fancy car that lets everyone know we matter.

I spent most of my life chasing the approval of others. I remember moving to Los Angeles from Africa at 14 years old… shy, insecure, awkward, and desperate for approval. I met a girl at a “get to know you event” and when she found out I was from Africa, she rolled her eyes, said, “oh, well that’s weird”, and walked away. We don’t forget those moments that make us shrink back and wish we could disappear, do we? I did well in high school, I graduated with honors and got a load of awards, but I don’t really remember those – I remember the awkward moments of not belonging, not fitting in. Because that was the trophy I craved. That is what I felt I needed.

What is the trophy that you chase? What is it that will finally tell you that you’ve “arrived”? That you are important to someone or matter to the world? We all have them, we store them up in our hearts until the dust makes our souls decay. We find we are selling ourselves for a drink that will never quench our thirst and we can no longer stand under the weight of our own expectations.

You probably have heard these words in many contexts … read them again and let them read your heart.

“Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal. Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.” Matthew 6:19-21

What is your treasure? It will define every part of how you live you life, and how you assess your life. The great irony here is that we can’t produce what we need our treasure to be – it all comes as a gift. A proper aligning of who we are in the big picture of mankind. We can only determine true treasure in our lives when we see ourselves as the treasure we are.

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” Ephesians 2:10

“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light.” 1 Peter 2:9

“You will be a crown of splendor in the LORD’s hand, a royal diadem in the hand of your God.” Isaiah 62:3

“For you created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” Ps 139:13-14

When we bow our hearts to His majesty, when we repent of our attempts to build idols in the mud of our ambition, when we let His death on the cross cover over a lifetime of sins, we enter into the stream of true treasure. Come! Sit here with me awhile. Let the renewing flood of mercy fill your soul and show you who you truly are.

My heart is full and tinged with that bittersweet mixture of sadness and joy today, when I think about my dear Uncle Gene. I am overjoyed at the glory he is experiencing now, the hope lived his whole life in light of has been fulfilled. I am sad because I will miss his presence in my life. But when I think of that day sitting around my dining room table, and I remember the stories he told and the fire in his eyes, I am drawn to true treasure.

Thank you, Uncle Gene.

Posted in Living this Life

Walk on

I just can’t get over this story.

I close my eyes, and I can see him.

Face dripping with mud, eyes blind, feet walking… groping, feeling, falling, stumbling.

feet 3

I wonder if he hears laughter from those around.

Or if it’s just silence. That awkward, long silence when no one knows what to say or do.

And I don’t know why I’ve never seen it before in all the times I’ve read this story, but there is a detail hidden here that has changed the face of it for me. And brought it to life in a whole new way. John 9 tells about a man born blind. Jesus is leaving the temple after a toxic confrontation by the spiritual leaders, and here sits this man. Many who study this think Jesus’ encounter with the blind man happens as He is leaving the temple grounds. I’ve read many commentaries and discussions about Jesus strangely making mud with spit and rubbing it on the man’s eyes. But what follows is what has captured my mind lately.

After making the strange mud paste and applying it to the man’s eyes, Jesus tells him to wash in the pool of Siloam. Having never been there, I had never realized how far away that was. Jesus asks this man to walk 1,000 yards, or more easily understood, one half mile! Picture in your mind something that is ½ mile from where you are sitting right now.  Try to imagine what it would be like to walk that entire distance – with everyone watching while the mud drips down your face, not sure of what is actually happening.

I wonder what he’s feeling. Is he hopeful? Embarassed? Or just plain confused? I’m sure he’s heard the mocking before. He knows what everyone’s thinking – but right here, right now, he walks on. This walk must have seemed unending. One half mile of walking in the darkness towards an unknown future with hope alone carrying him.Hope in the form of mud. He must have walked this road many times before – but today, 1,000 yards must have taken forever!

I think about my own long walks toward healing. Times when the road seemed too long and there was no guarantee of what lay on the other side. When my own swirling thoughts threatened to keep me trapped in a darkness of my own making. The voice of Jesus was so quiet – but it was there. Speaking through the mud, through the confusion, through the pain – saying “walk on”.

I think about a long walk of obedience – down the longest jetway of my life onto a plane to take me to Amsterdam. I had never felt so alone in my life, but I could hear that still small voice whispering in my ear, “walk on”.

I think of sitting in a NICU ward by my baby boy – scared, confused, unsure of where this calebroad was taking me. “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” Isaiah 43:2

Or times when I couldn’t even see a road, and the darkness screaming at me threatened to engulf me – but still His voice was there. “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” Isaiah 30:21

So the blind man walks on – and so do we. Towards our Pool of Siloam – our pool of healing.

I can’t get over this story. Because it’s my story.

I don’t understand the mud. Many people smarter than me have pontificated long and hard about the meaning, literal and abstract, of Jesus using mud to heal a man’s blindness. I don’t understand His messy ways in my life either. I have tried, and I’m sure I will continue to try. But when the dust settles, I think the greatest truth comes from the mouth of one simple man who was born blind… “I don’t know. One thing I do know – I was blind, but now I see!”

What long hard road are you on?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Do you feel the heat of the stares of those around you? Does the mud sting your eyes and confuse your senses?  Please don’t stop on the way to your healing! Listen – it’s His voice, saying “walk on, my friend. Walk on.”

“I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.” Isaiah 42:16

Posted in Walking it out

Helicopters and God’s faithfulness

I stood here on that cold October morning, the wind whipping my face as I watched the helicopter take off. The helicopter carrying my son away from me.

2017-03-22 (2)

And my heart broke. The night before, Brad and I had rushed to the ER with our boy. What had started with a cold, followed by a fever, had erupted into a full blown seizure. And now this moment– I feel the tears welling up even now as I remember. They needed to get him to a bigger hospital, and this was the best way to do it. I knew it was the best thing for him, but nothing prepares a mother’s heart for this moment. Watching her precious baby being loaded into the back of a helicopter – more helpless than I had ever been.

I stood there today, another cold and cloudy morning. And I watched that same helicopter land. All the memories came rushing back as the wind whipped my face. Some feelings never fade. This day, it was just a demonstration – they brought the helicopter to show us it’s life saving capabilities. And this day, my 8 year old boy scrambled into the back of it to see the place he had once laid as a helpless baby. So big, so strong, so energetic and smart – I sometimes forget.

IMG_9733

I forget the day the doctors told me about an “anomaly” with my “fetus” (I couldn’t believe they would call my precious baby a fetus). The months wondering what we would find in him when he was born. The days in the NICU, the tests, the surgery, the oxygen tanks they sent us home with. I forget that control is but a vapor – taunting us and then slipping away.

And when I remember, I find my soul breaking out in song. Not just songs of thanksgiving for how God has rescued our Caleb, but songs of thanksgiving that my God is in control. And reminding me that I’m not.

Because when the dark clouds roll in, I hear these words “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” Isaiah 43:2

And when I feel hopeless, my tired eyes read this “The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves.”  Zephaniah 3:17

When I feel alone, I am lifted by this promise: ““the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders… There is no one like the God of Jeshurun, who rides across the heavens to help you and on the clouds in His majesty.The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.” (Dt. 33)

And in my despair, I hear these simple words: “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” Ps 46:10

I didn’t expect this to happen today. It’s been so many years – life has moved on. This morning I opened my Bible and read these words: “Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live… Remember the day you stood before the Lord your God” Dt. 4:9

I nodded my head, and went on with my day. But when I watched that helicopter land, it slammed into my heart like a tidal wave.

DO NOT FORGET THE THINGS YOUR EYES HAVE SEEN

DO NOT LET THEM FADE FROM YOUR HEART

REMEMBER THE DAY YOU STOOD BEFORE THE LORD YOUR GOD

Oh yes, my Lord, I remember! And I praise You. I praise You – not just for your miracles (which are many), but for Your presence and for Your power. In my lostness, in my confusion, in my moments of despair, You have carried me.  Your mercies truly are new every morning – great is Your faithfulness! (Lamentations 3)