"Calmin' the Wind; God's Helping"

(Last year following a storm on the Sea of Galilee)

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Bay brought up a beloved memory the other day.

It's not one I've forgotten, not by any means.

In fact, I think about it frequently at times when I walk in through the door of my house; however, this time, it struck a different chord within...

When our nephew, Andrew, was just a little guy, we came home from church one Sunday, to find that he had come visiting.

At the time, he lived next door, so this wasn't an unusual occurrence, but he rarely came inside if we weren't home.

Apparently, his family arrived back from services before we did and he had something on his mind that couldn't wait, so he came on in to make himself at home. 

However, that particular spring Sunday, the winds blew with no-small-force, pine cones and needles dropped, the hot tub cover was blown askew, and pillows from our deck chairs had landed in the yard. 

We noticed all this as we drove into our carport; but, as we walked inside there stood Andrew at the large window overlooking the havoc. 

Wee as he was at the time, he stood straight and as tall as his little height could get, arms outstretched parallel to the floor, eyes closed.

Interesting. 

"Hey, bud, whatcha doing?"

His reply came quick, never missing a beat, "Calmin' the wind. God's helping." 

(Caesarea National Park)

(Maybe this had been his Sunday School lesson that day, I dunno... 🤷‍♀️)

Tucked away in my heart, this memory serves as a cute little story - one of many cute stories I can share about this particular nephew. 

When Bay brought it up at the beginning of the week (and, honestly, I don't even recall the context of it at this point), something stirred inside me...and, I knew, this many years later, a Biblical lesson needed to be heard with the ears of my heart.

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Oh, my!

There are a lot of storms that crash onto the shores of my world...

Like yours, there are some more intense than others.

If you're like me, you look for ways to "calm" the wind; find order; manage the chaos; discover a quick-fix.

I really don't like it when the pillows are blowing off the chairs in my world...and, I just want things to go back to some kind of normal.

So, it's easy for me to want to take advantage of that dirty little seven-letter-word: CONTROL.

I want to make decisions that I think will make everything right, and remove any consequences. 

It's exactly what Sarah did, while she was still Sarai...

Remember this?

Now Sarai, Abram's wife, had borne him no children. She had a female Egyptian servant whose name was Hagar. And Sarai said to Abram, "Behold now, the Lord has prevented me from bearing children (this storm is God's fault*). Go in to my servant (since it is God's fault, listen to me*); it may be that I shall obtain children by her." And Abram listened to the voice of Sarai...He went in to Hagar, and she conceived...and, Hagar bore Abram a son, and he called the name of his son, Ishmael (Genesis 16:1-2, 4, 15). 

(*my words.)

We all know how this turned out, right?

We're still suffering the long-term-consequences of Sarai's "calming of the storm" (and, she didn't even let God help!)...

So, when we, like Andrew, try to calm our storms, our way, with suggestions about how the Lord might help...OR NOT... 

Well, I guess the question really is, 

"How many Ishmael's do we birth as we try to advance our plan as God's plan?" 

-Peter Scazerro-

The consequences might be just as dire, but on a personal level (vs national)...

We're so much better off letting the Lord calm the storms, still the waves, and bring peace back into the boat....HIS WAY and in HIS TIMING. 

It may be hard sitting in the waiting room; but, HIS WAY IS PERFECT.

In the meantime, that's what I must remember, when tempted to be "calmin' the wind;" and, maybe(?) allowing God to help.

Broken and Still Useful

Shortly after Bay and I first moved to Pagosa Springs, we joined a small group Bible Study with younger married couples our age.

One night, a question came up that required us to think through a response to the following question, and bring the answer the next week.

If you could choose what went on your grave marker before you died, what would you want it to say? 

(cemetery located on an old homestead I walked past in Montana last weekend while on retreat)

That question is slightly reminiscent of the one that spurred a blog post on tattoos (here).

It also calls to mind a post I read not too long ago called "headstone humor." You'll find some pretty funny ones clicking on this link. 

I took the assignment seriously, though, and it took me almost the whole week to come up with mine.

(the beautiful, old homestead)

As it was, I was reading Paul's letters to Timothy for my quiet time, and when I got to 2 Timothy 2:21, I stopped my perusal and began pondering.

Something about that verse resonated within my soul and that verse has been my go-to-answer since then...and, yes, I'm sticking with it.

My prayer is that I would be worthy of the words -

Here's how it reads in the ESV (but the way the verse is written, I have to include the previous passage):

Now in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay, some for honorable use, some for dishonorable. Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master...ready for every good work.

It's the second part of that verse, I want emphasized: a vessel of honor, set apart as holy, useful to the Master, and ready for every good work.  

I like old things, as last week's post revealed.

(farming equipment on the homestead property)

I especially like old things repurposed. 

That's been on my mind for a couple weeks.

Maybe I like them, because this vessel, which houses my soul, is getting older. 

Like some of the things that we've reclaimed (and consecrated), I'm a bit worse for the wear. 

Dents and dings. Weak and worn. Scarred, sore, and stiff. Bruised and a bit broken from the storms of life, which can unmercifully batter us. 

This hasn't changed my desire to still be a useful vessel...

...ALTHOUGH, here's what struck me, this past weekend. 

I'm in the process of studying the life of John the Baptist: "what is it about the man that caused his cousin, Jesus, to say, "Just what did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind? A man dressed in soft clothing? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than... Truly I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist...(Matthew 11:7-11a)"

The retreat series I'm writing, based on his life, will be titled "Who Are You?" for you and I have much to learn about our identity in Christ and our PURPOSE in life from this unique, mysterious, feisty, and, yes, broken man. 

We also have this potential that arises from the promise Jesus spoke that, "even the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven (could that be moi?) is greater than he (Matthew 112:11b)."

How can that be? 

The Light of the World, who dwells in us, actually shines brighter through broken and battered vessels.

When I go to speak, I certainly don't want my audience to look at the vessel, I want them to see what is inside the vessel: the power of the Holy Spirit at work through me.

When I go to speak, like John the Baptist, I want to simply identify myself by these two words, when asked "Who Are You?"

A VOICE.

No one ever sees a voice.

We only hear the voice. 

Like John, that is my desire.

To carry the voice in this vessel, shining His Light through the broken cracks, and bringing Him glory.

So, I've improvised my prayer to ask: Sweet Lord, may I be a USEFUL VOICE housed in a VESSEL OF HONOR (even if it is dented and dinged; weak and worn; scarred, sore and stiff; bruised and broken....) set apart, holy, prepared for every good work. 

Any voice, in any vessel, has great purpose when used for His glory.

Reclamation and Consecration - Old Made New

This past summer, my sweet husband dedicated some of his time to helping a couple of dear friends with some jobs around their homes that he knew needed an extra pair of hands to accomplish.

So, many a morning, while the temperatures stayed in the low 70's, he'd give a few hours to assisting in what promised to be a tiresome, difficult, lonely project without a helper.

You know what they say, "one man's trash is another man's treasure."

I don't know who "they" might be, but "they" certainly nailed Bay, for in the trashing of our friend's stuff, Bay brought home many a treasure.

An old stove base is becoming a coffee table...

An old door from a stove became a birdhouse. 

Old rusted stoves became "vases" for dried weeds or lawn ornaments...

An old metal grate that sits over our bonfire pit in the yard, and has become home to an old coffee pot he rescued. 

Some old pots are now planters; and...

...my favorite - an old oil can (beat up, dented, rusty-in-places, and speckled with a few spilled paint spots) has turned into a lamp for our Ezra House. 

Truly, all these "treasures" deserved their trip to the metal-reclamation-yard in Durango, yet their salvation gave them new use, new purpose, a re-purposed reason to keep on keeping on. 

Where others see "trash," Bay's creative heart saw a new "why" for their existence. 

He brought them home, cleaned them up, and gave this stuff places of honor around our house and our yard. 

There, they proudly stand, a testimony to all, that beauty, indeed, exists in-the-eye-of-the-beholder.

I love this capacity in him to see usefulness beyond quiddity. 

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Three times, now, in just a matter of hours, I have either heard or read this word: consecrate.

It's a great word, rarely used anymore. 

Perhaps it feels a bit distasteful - for in this day and age, a commitment to just one-thing is rather passé; and, consecration brings with it a deeper commitment of setting oneself apart for sacred service. 

In fact, I found this chart that shows the usage of this word over time in our society:

As I mentioned, rare these days.

This is a stretch from what I wrote above to what I write now, and yet...

The Lord who stooped down from glory to pick us up out of the trash heap, headed for the fiery furnace of the "metal recycling plant," brought us salvation.

He reclaimed us, overlooking our dents, rust, paint splotches, and set us apart to be used with a great purpose: to stand as a testimony to His glory. 

We are meant to be "vessels of honor, set apart for His use..."

What the world sees as useless, He sees as beautiful.

The truth is once saved, I've started seeing a pattern.

Some of us tend to forget our why and wander off as we're influenced by other sources (after all, influencers of all variety are at our fingertips with the push of an app on our cell phones).

Maybe we start to think that we were made for more...

Maybe we think we aren't deserving...

Maybe we're just bored...

I don't know what happens; but, over time our new "why" becomes a bit obscure (like the usage of the word "consecrate"). 

AND YET...with the price paid for our reclamation/salvation how can we set all that to the side and not continue to allow the Lord to do the good work He has purposed through us for His glory?!?

Why would there be no joy in consecration?

The Lord won't force us...

...But with love that SACRIFICIAL, that GAVE ALL? How not? 

I love this quote from dear George Muller (these old saints may not have gotten it "all" right, but they sure understood much more than I do -- so much to learn from them):

Thinking it's time for a little personal, internal review and renewed consecration;

and, maybe time to bring back an old word.

Refreshing Souls

There's nothing better for filling up my soul than an hour or two out on the little lake near our house in my kayak.

Somehow I breathe more deeply when my paddle hits the water. 

I've only been out three times this summer (just because of life-stuff), but in some ways that makes me cherish the times I get to go all the more.

It never fails that I come back home refreshed. 

Yesterday was no different...

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REFRESH!

That word popped up numerous times this past week in a variety of circumstances. 

Interestingly it is sprinkled throughout the Old and New Testament of our Bibles, and as I did a word-search, I realized that it appears God created us with this need.

So, if you find yourself, as I do now and again, needing a little bit of a reset, just know you are not alone - and our need for replenishment is as unique and as individual as we are.

I love some of the Scriptures that I found with the word refresh, or refreshed, even refreshment tucked within the pages.

In Genesis, Abraham received a visit from three strangers. He could tell they had traveled far and were in need of "refreshment." So, he sat the three down under a tree, where they could escape the heat of the day, filled their water skins, and fed them from his own cook fire, in order to refresh their souls.

In 2 Samuel 16, David, whose son. Absalom, chased him out of the city in an attempt to take the throne, found himself exhausted and utterly depleted. Yet, David still found the time to "refresh himself in the Lord."

How? He tells us in Psalm 19, verse 7:  "The law of the Lord is perfect, refreshing the soul."

David must have spent time resting and reflecting on the words which the Lord spoke to him throughout his lifetime, all of which revitalize the heart.

One of my favorite passages is found in Jeremiah 31:25, "Thus says the Lord, 'I refresh the weary and satisfy the faint.'"

Of course, we can't ignore the fact, that the sage of Proverbs also tells us a sure way to refresh our hearts is when we spend time refreshing the hearts of others (Proverbs 11:25). 

I'm sure you are wondering at this point if I'm skipping God's commandment to us in Exodus. Expounding on His guideline to never forget to keep the Sabbath, in Exodus 23:12, the Lord says this: six days you shall work, and the seventh will be a Sabbath unto you, so that your spirits will be refreshed.

However, where all of this began is in the one chapter book in the New Testament I mentioned last week: The book of Philemon. 

Known to the church at Colossae as a loving, kind, faithful evangelist, Paul implored Philemon to do the one thing he did best: refresh the hearts of the saints. 

Philemon did not have a loveless faith, nor did he have a faithless love...his faith looked up to Jesus and then worked itself outward to his Savior's bride. 

Whatever else he did, he provided sacred space for folks to enter into his home, find rest and hospitality, in order to gather their strength and find renewed reason for LIFE. Re-energized!

So, Paul appeals to Philemon to keep on doing what he is doing...then, without saying it in oh-so-many-words, Paul lets Philemon know...

THE VERY BEST WAY TO REFRESH THE HEARTS OF SAINTS IS IN EXTENDING FORGIVENESS TO THOSE WHO SEEK IT. 

Sometimes, we can't offer a nearby lake to bless someone with refreshment, but we can give them the next-best-thing: FORGIVENESS. 

It might even be more refreshing. Smile.