Half way there Carol told me that she would not go on to Prescott with me where I was going to lead a large college retreat. My wife wanted to stay in Phoenix with my parents for the weekend and I could pick her up on the way back, she said. I didn’t understand why she would want to change plans, why she did not want to go along to be part of the “big event”. But clueless as I was, I didn’t even ask her why, I just dropped her off and went on my way. Or maybe I did ask her and she quietly refused to tell me so as not to worry me or disturb all my “big plans”.
On the way home I stopped to pick her up. For the first time I noticed that she didn’t look like she was feeling well. Quietly we began our two hour drive home to Tucson. Slowly, in broken, tearful words she told me that she had lost the baby. She was pregnant with our second child when I dropped her off in Phoenix, but while I was off to conquer the world she had miscarried.
Her emotions were a world different than mine. She had lost a child she hadn’t seen, didn’t know, but loved deeply. And her man hardly knew the pain she had anticipated, then endured. Me. Oh it hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt like a jerk. A stupid, clueless, unloving, unsupportive jerk. I probably didn’t say much. Didn’t know what to say. Oh I probably said all the appropriate things – “I didn’t even know. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be with you. Are you alright? We can have another baby. It’ll be okay.”
What I was really feeling and thinking was this. I was mad at God for having to always be so busy about His work that I was clueless of my wife’s needs. But I knew it wasn’t His fault, so I was mad at myself. And I was mad at my senior pastor for being so demanding, even though I thrived on the energy and vision he exuded.
I am sure I had not settled down from fuming and arguing with myself when we finally got home and drove into the driveway. And there in the middle of the carport was my turntable, my prized stereo component, a belt-drive Dual turntable. What in the world was it doing in such a strange place? Then it hit me. It came from inside the house. We went into our home and found it totally burglarized. Everything was off the shelves, out of the drawers, strewn everywhere. Everything we had owned that was of value was gone. Jewelry, coins, silver, stereo – everything.
Talk about a double whammy. God got my attention. But you know, it’s still hard to change. It was easier to give up the earthly possessions than it was to give up the mindset that God needed me for His kingdom more than Carol needed me for our love relation. It took me years to learn to give her the attention she deserved, even though I desperately and lovingly wanted to give it. She helps now by gently clueing me in whenever I get clueless. I’m still improving. Slow but sure. Oh yes. And twenty-five years later I finally got smart and replaced the jewelry with one nice ruby necklace. Her birthstone. And she wears it all the time.
“Each of you also must love his wife as he loves himself.” (Ephesians 5:33)
“I liken you, my darling, to a mare harnessed to one of the chariots of Pharaoh. Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings, your neck with strings of jewels.” (Song of Songs 1:9-10)
September 30, 2009
September 25, 2009
I Am Lord Of My Church
Sometimes I look back at things and evaluate how important they were by the degree to which I remember them. They are indelibly implanted on the front of my brain, a beacon light in my memory that always guides me and draws me back to the true course.
One of those indelible memories is when God spoke to a group of four men, as we were waiting upon Him to guide us in how, when, and where to start a church which we knew undeniably that He called us to start. There were many different things He told us to guide us, many ways that he made the path open up before us. But one time as we prayed and sought His face He drew us to read and contemplate the first chapter of Revelation. Then Jesus said to me and to the other three, “I am Lord of My Church”.
That statement was packed with meaning. Packed! Jesus wanted every decision to be brought before Him. Every desire, every ambition, even every message to be delivered to His people under my care. Every appointment, every relationship, every prayer, every conversation was on His behalf, and empowered and blessed by His Lordship.
Church and ministry simply are not run like a business. That is a mistake too often made -- board decisions, worldly wisdom, corporate strategy, church growth how-to, all blessed by a token prayer. No, people know and sense when their leader is in tune with the mind of Christ.
A pertinent illustration comes from an interesting story in the life of Nathan, prophet of God to the Israel of God (I Samuel 7). King David talks to Nathan and suggests that he would like to build God a temple. Nathan, being a wise man of God, says “Go ahead and do it, whatever you have in mind, for the Lord your God is with you.” As the saying goes, open mouth, insert foot. There is something that trumps even wisdom, and that is a word of God from the very mind of God. God told Nathan to go back to David and tell him, “This is what the Lord says, Are you the one to build me a house to dwell in?....” Thankfully, David was humble enough to accept a “change in itinerary”, and allow God to be King of His kingdom. Likewise, we must not presume to conclude that wisdom is always and ultimately supreme, nor that the desire of our heart, noble as it may be, is necessarily God’s desire.
Jesus is Lord of His church. And He wants to be Lord of our life, too. Thank you, Coach. I want to be on your team. It’s a winner. Your kingdom rocks!
“He is the head of the body, the church… so that in everything he might have the supremacy.”
Colossians 1:18)
“I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone ‘like a son of man’…. In his right hand he held seven stars, and out of his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword.” (Revelation 1:12-16)
One of those indelible memories is when God spoke to a group of four men, as we were waiting upon Him to guide us in how, when, and where to start a church which we knew undeniably that He called us to start. There were many different things He told us to guide us, many ways that he made the path open up before us. But one time as we prayed and sought His face He drew us to read and contemplate the first chapter of Revelation. Then Jesus said to me and to the other three, “I am Lord of My Church”.
That statement was packed with meaning. Packed! Jesus wanted every decision to be brought before Him. Every desire, every ambition, even every message to be delivered to His people under my care. Every appointment, every relationship, every prayer, every conversation was on His behalf, and empowered and blessed by His Lordship.
Church and ministry simply are not run like a business. That is a mistake too often made -- board decisions, worldly wisdom, corporate strategy, church growth how-to, all blessed by a token prayer. No, people know and sense when their leader is in tune with the mind of Christ.
A pertinent illustration comes from an interesting story in the life of Nathan, prophet of God to the Israel of God (I Samuel 7). King David talks to Nathan and suggests that he would like to build God a temple. Nathan, being a wise man of God, says “Go ahead and do it, whatever you have in mind, for the Lord your God is with you.” As the saying goes, open mouth, insert foot. There is something that trumps even wisdom, and that is a word of God from the very mind of God. God told Nathan to go back to David and tell him, “This is what the Lord says, Are you the one to build me a house to dwell in?....” Thankfully, David was humble enough to accept a “change in itinerary”, and allow God to be King of His kingdom. Likewise, we must not presume to conclude that wisdom is always and ultimately supreme, nor that the desire of our heart, noble as it may be, is necessarily God’s desire.
Jesus is Lord of His church. And He wants to be Lord of our life, too. Thank you, Coach. I want to be on your team. It’s a winner. Your kingdom rocks!
“He is the head of the body, the church… so that in everything he might have the supremacy.”
Colossians 1:18)
“I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone ‘like a son of man’…. In his right hand he held seven stars, and out of his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword.” (Revelation 1:12-16)
September 20, 2009
Now Can You Hear Me?
So that’s what it’s like to hear God’s voice! I was driving down the road in my van one afternoon totally discouraged. I was putting in hours and hours of time ministering to a high school gal, with the help of my wife and a few others. Her needs were proving bigger than our knowledge, and beyond our experience and expertise. And each step we took proved more and more controversial. But I couldn’t just quit and leave her in the condition she was in. I knew deep in my heart God was at work in her life. But all the other pastors and the deacons were making it quite clear that they felt I was looney tunes. I really, really felt all alone, out on a limb, about to snap off and go tumbling.
Counselor after counselor, seven in all, were consulted and none could help her. The police had been involved. The newspaper had written a story. The church wanted to keep its respectability and reputation intact, I was told. But I didn’t feel God telling me to quit. So I was torn. Miserably. Desperately.
At each turning point, each new outburst, I would choose again to keep helping. But the support grew thinner and thinner, the criticism more and more pointed. That’s when it happened. The statement was so clear in my head that I could not have missed it. Nor could I have mistaken it for my own thought. It was clear. God said to me, “ I called you to help, and you alone. Don’t expect anyone else to understand.”
I had to pull off the road. I cried and cried. Tears and emotions poured out me. It wasn’t just what He said to me, it was the fact that he knew and understood fully what I was in the midst of. And He wanted me to know that my gut feeling was correct. He was indeed leading me, wanting me to continue to help this gal. He even said he “called” me to this very task, this unique and extended ministry. Furthermore, the misunderstanding and criticism was also part of the calling.
Netzero had an ad on television for awhile. The guy would walk around and say, “Now can you hear me?” He would take a few steps and say again, “Now can you hear me?” That first recognition of God’s voice was like that, a response to that question and that yearning in my heart.. I had worked with others who heard the voice of the Holy Spirit clearly, and I knew and trusted that God was actually really talking to them. But now I could say, “Yes Lord, I hear you! Thank you so very much for being so very real to me.”
If you talk to God you are considered spiritual. But if God talks back you are considered crazy.
“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I, send me.” (Isaiah 6:8,9)
“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27)
Counselor after counselor, seven in all, were consulted and none could help her. The police had been involved. The newspaper had written a story. The church wanted to keep its respectability and reputation intact, I was told. But I didn’t feel God telling me to quit. So I was torn. Miserably. Desperately.
At each turning point, each new outburst, I would choose again to keep helping. But the support grew thinner and thinner, the criticism more and more pointed. That’s when it happened. The statement was so clear in my head that I could not have missed it. Nor could I have mistaken it for my own thought. It was clear. God said to me, “ I called you to help, and you alone. Don’t expect anyone else to understand.”
I had to pull off the road. I cried and cried. Tears and emotions poured out me. It wasn’t just what He said to me, it was the fact that he knew and understood fully what I was in the midst of. And He wanted me to know that my gut feeling was correct. He was indeed leading me, wanting me to continue to help this gal. He even said he “called” me to this very task, this unique and extended ministry. Furthermore, the misunderstanding and criticism was also part of the calling.
Netzero had an ad on television for awhile. The guy would walk around and say, “Now can you hear me?” He would take a few steps and say again, “Now can you hear me?” That first recognition of God’s voice was like that, a response to that question and that yearning in my heart.. I had worked with others who heard the voice of the Holy Spirit clearly, and I knew and trusted that God was actually really talking to them. But now I could say, “Yes Lord, I hear you! Thank you so very much for being so very real to me.”
If you talk to God you are considered spiritual. But if God talks back you are considered crazy.
“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I, send me.” (Isaiah 6:8,9)
“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27)
September 18, 2009
David, You Are Now Responsible
Would you like to know what is the most lasting memory of my wedding day? After 35 years, now, much has faded away. But there’s one thing I will never forget. It made more of an impression on me than the wedding itself. More than seeing my beautiful, wonderful bride come down the aisle. More impressive even than having the governor of Arizona attend the wedding. And it certainly helps me forget the memory of stepping on Carol’s gown as we walked down the aisle as husband and wife.
It was actually the next morning, as we were driving out of town for a few days of honeymoon. I was driving my very special 64 Chevy pickup (short wide bed, tuck and roll upholstery, rebuilt V-8 engine, shiny moon hubcaps, and an 8-track tape player). Carol was sitting right close beside me, and I had a box of Dunkin Donuts on the far end of the seat. Then this incredible feeling of responsibility came over me. It was more of a feeling than a voice from God, but I knew it was from Him. I felt impressed upon me the enormous responsibility for this woman next to me. I was no longer a boy dating and courting a young lady. I was not to treat her as a woman that I now got to merely enjoy have living in my home with me. She wasn’t some cute little Barbie doll, sex object. Not even just a good friend to hang out with. I was now taking a big huge step in growing up. I was now responsible to love her, care for her, protect her, encourage her, provide for her. All of that came over me and sunk into me. Without words. Just an overwhelming sense of responsibility. And I have never forgotten it.
Whenever I talk about the roles of husbands and wives I offer my commentary on Ephesians 5. “Husbands need to love their wives enough to die for them. Wives should love their husbands enough to live for them.” But I recently heard a wise godly man say something that sheds even greater light on that statement, especially for the husband. He said that the purpose of marriage is crucifixion. When we men are young and full of testosterone we think the purpose of marriage is to have sex with a beautiful woman, a bride just for me. As we grow older we progress to a bit more noble concept, that marriage is for loyal companionship. That is what the Creator acknowledged of Adam’s need when he created Eve. But this idea of crucifixion kind of caught my frontal lobe. He said that God designed marriage to help heal us men of self-centeredness and to make us grow up. To be the head of the household means to be first to the cross.
“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” (Ephesians 5:25)
It was actually the next morning, as we were driving out of town for a few days of honeymoon. I was driving my very special 64 Chevy pickup (short wide bed, tuck and roll upholstery, rebuilt V-8 engine, shiny moon hubcaps, and an 8-track tape player). Carol was sitting right close beside me, and I had a box of Dunkin Donuts on the far end of the seat. Then this incredible feeling of responsibility came over me. It was more of a feeling than a voice from God, but I knew it was from Him. I felt impressed upon me the enormous responsibility for this woman next to me. I was no longer a boy dating and courting a young lady. I was not to treat her as a woman that I now got to merely enjoy have living in my home with me. She wasn’t some cute little Barbie doll, sex object. Not even just a good friend to hang out with. I was now taking a big huge step in growing up. I was now responsible to love her, care for her, protect her, encourage her, provide for her. All of that came over me and sunk into me. Without words. Just an overwhelming sense of responsibility. And I have never forgotten it.
Whenever I talk about the roles of husbands and wives I offer my commentary on Ephesians 5. “Husbands need to love their wives enough to die for them. Wives should love their husbands enough to live for them.” But I recently heard a wise godly man say something that sheds even greater light on that statement, especially for the husband. He said that the purpose of marriage is crucifixion. When we men are young and full of testosterone we think the purpose of marriage is to have sex with a beautiful woman, a bride just for me. As we grow older we progress to a bit more noble concept, that marriage is for loyal companionship. That is what the Creator acknowledged of Adam’s need when he created Eve. But this idea of crucifixion kind of caught my frontal lobe. He said that God designed marriage to help heal us men of self-centeredness and to make us grow up. To be the head of the household means to be first to the cross.
“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” (Ephesians 5:25)
September 16, 2009
To Be A Good Wife And Mother
She came to me, my first born daughter, to ask her Dad if she could get married. She was a senior in high School. She wanted to get married in the summer soon after graduation. I was a bit surprised, to say the least. Kari and Tyler had been best friends for a long time, and I must have been oblivious to the fact that they were this deeply in love. He was a fine young man, I must say, the son of one of my best friends. But to think of my daughter getting married so young was a major hurdle to overcome. It was kind of an unspoken Christian standard that sharp, intelligent, respectable Christian young people go to college and wait for marriage until they are well grounded and mature. Whatever that means.
But that is what I expected. I was caught up in the mold. She was a 4.0 student, valedictorian of her graduating class. And I had visions of all the possibilities that lay before her. Choice of what college she wanted to go to. What career she might pursue. What great achievements she might accomplish.
This, though, was the clincher. The thing that captured my mind and heart. That which pulled God into the middle of the question, rather than allowing my Christian community to determine the answer. She asked me this. “Dad, I am convinced that God wants me to be a good wife and mother. Isn’t that what you have always taught me? Isn’t that what God wants of me?”
Perhaps it was God who thrust the dagger of truth into my heart, rather than Kari. Or at least made the truth light up like a neon light. I told her that I would have to think about it, and turned to walk away. In reality I went into another room, closed the door, and cried big huge tears of joy and thanksgiving for her incredible faith and understanding, and tears of submission to God’s plan for my daughter.
Well, the news got out that she was engaged, and still in high school. I had more friends and peers question me and my wisdom than you can possibly imagine. I was shocked, but held it in. This was a God thing, and no one was going to steal my joy, nor hers. At the Christian school where Kari attended there was but one teacher who congratulated me for my daughter’s plans. Just one. And I shall never forget that dear old wisened saint.
Well the wedding came and went. And even in the midst of the ceremony my Kari reduced me once again to a puddle of tears by having her mother sing a song that I had written for our wedding 24 years before. And now the years are starting to pass by and I can look back to evaluate the sincerity and maturity of her request and my decision. She has put her all, her absolute all, into being a loyal and supportive wife. And now she is raising three wonderful children. Because of her spiritual heart and wisdom they will one day go to their mommy and daddy and say, “I think that this is what God wants of me. What do you think?”
“He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what the Lord requires of you. But to act justly, and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)
But that is what I expected. I was caught up in the mold. She was a 4.0 student, valedictorian of her graduating class. And I had visions of all the possibilities that lay before her. Choice of what college she wanted to go to. What career she might pursue. What great achievements she might accomplish.
This, though, was the clincher. The thing that captured my mind and heart. That which pulled God into the middle of the question, rather than allowing my Christian community to determine the answer. She asked me this. “Dad, I am convinced that God wants me to be a good wife and mother. Isn’t that what you have always taught me? Isn’t that what God wants of me?”
Perhaps it was God who thrust the dagger of truth into my heart, rather than Kari. Or at least made the truth light up like a neon light. I told her that I would have to think about it, and turned to walk away. In reality I went into another room, closed the door, and cried big huge tears of joy and thanksgiving for her incredible faith and understanding, and tears of submission to God’s plan for my daughter.
Well, the news got out that she was engaged, and still in high school. I had more friends and peers question me and my wisdom than you can possibly imagine. I was shocked, but held it in. This was a God thing, and no one was going to steal my joy, nor hers. At the Christian school where Kari attended there was but one teacher who congratulated me for my daughter’s plans. Just one. And I shall never forget that dear old wisened saint.
Well the wedding came and went. And even in the midst of the ceremony my Kari reduced me once again to a puddle of tears by having her mother sing a song that I had written for our wedding 24 years before. And now the years are starting to pass by and I can look back to evaluate the sincerity and maturity of her request and my decision. She has put her all, her absolute all, into being a loyal and supportive wife. And now she is raising three wonderful children. Because of her spiritual heart and wisdom they will one day go to their mommy and daddy and say, “I think that this is what God wants of me. What do you think?”
“He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what the Lord requires of you. But to act justly, and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)
September 15, 2009
Drive North on 138th, Look to the Right
God can be so precise in His guidance. It was simply directions at the time, but looking back at the whole situation, it was utterly amazing to realize how precisely He guided us.
Four men, including myself, were moved by God to start a church. We met and prayed and waited upon the Lord for months. He slowly taught us to depend upon His guidance -- to move forward with our hopes and dreams, yet trust Him to lead us, both in small matters and in big strategic ways.
We chose four different regions of the greater Portland area to consider -- three of which were booming areas of growth – Tualatin, Sunset corridor, and East Vancouver. After much research, debate, and prayer, God helped to clarify not only the choice, but to tune our hearts to follow after His heart. He said, “I want you to focus on the needy”. That settled it. Parkrose was the fourth choice, but it became the only choice.
We began looking at the area, looking for homes, and for a site to rent for starting the church. We knocked on a few doors and came up with a list of possibilities. Then we decided to fast and pray for a season and come together to see if God would help direct us. That’s when he spoke to Perry, one of the four men, and told him simply this, “drive north on 138th and look to the right.”
Two of us set out the next day, map in hand, to do as the Lord had directed. We started at Burnside and drove north on 138th, wherever it showed up on the map. We got up to San Rafael and there was one little cul-de-sac left. We decided to skip it so that we could cut over to go around to the north side of the I-84 freeway. There was a good stretch north of the freeway, with some good possibilities we had already scoped out.
We drove a few blocks away and both looked at each other and said, “no, no, we better go back and see what is on that little residential cul-de-sac.” We turned the corner and there was a house on the left and a house on the right. But there were no houses directly in front. The road dead ended into a large field, part of a larger campus of some sort. We looked to the right and there was a building which we felt might be the one God was leading us to. We drove around and into the campus of Western States Chiropractic College. We went into the building and asked a few people who might be in charge. We talked to the business director and he said he had been thinking for some time about renting the gym and classrooms on Sundays to a church group.
I think of Acts 9 where Ananias was told by God to go visit a religious zealot, Paul, who was blinded on his way to Damascus. He told him exactly where to go, and that Paul would be expecting him. God still works in wondrous and precise ways when we choose to trust Him wholly and listen for the voice of the Holy Spirit.
The Lord told Ananias, “Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul, for he is praying. In a vision he as seen a man named Ananias come and place his hand on him to restore his sight.” (Acts 9:11-12)
Four men, including myself, were moved by God to start a church. We met and prayed and waited upon the Lord for months. He slowly taught us to depend upon His guidance -- to move forward with our hopes and dreams, yet trust Him to lead us, both in small matters and in big strategic ways.
We chose four different regions of the greater Portland area to consider -- three of which were booming areas of growth – Tualatin, Sunset corridor, and East Vancouver. After much research, debate, and prayer, God helped to clarify not only the choice, but to tune our hearts to follow after His heart. He said, “I want you to focus on the needy”. That settled it. Parkrose was the fourth choice, but it became the only choice.
We began looking at the area, looking for homes, and for a site to rent for starting the church. We knocked on a few doors and came up with a list of possibilities. Then we decided to fast and pray for a season and come together to see if God would help direct us. That’s when he spoke to Perry, one of the four men, and told him simply this, “drive north on 138th and look to the right.”
Two of us set out the next day, map in hand, to do as the Lord had directed. We started at Burnside and drove north on 138th, wherever it showed up on the map. We got up to San Rafael and there was one little cul-de-sac left. We decided to skip it so that we could cut over to go around to the north side of the I-84 freeway. There was a good stretch north of the freeway, with some good possibilities we had already scoped out.
We drove a few blocks away and both looked at each other and said, “no, no, we better go back and see what is on that little residential cul-de-sac.” We turned the corner and there was a house on the left and a house on the right. But there were no houses directly in front. The road dead ended into a large field, part of a larger campus of some sort. We looked to the right and there was a building which we felt might be the one God was leading us to. We drove around and into the campus of Western States Chiropractic College. We went into the building and asked a few people who might be in charge. We talked to the business director and he said he had been thinking for some time about renting the gym and classrooms on Sundays to a church group.
I think of Acts 9 where Ananias was told by God to go visit a religious zealot, Paul, who was blinded on his way to Damascus. He told him exactly where to go, and that Paul would be expecting him. God still works in wondrous and precise ways when we choose to trust Him wholly and listen for the voice of the Holy Spirit.
The Lord told Ananias, “Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul, for he is praying. In a vision he as seen a man named Ananias come and place his hand on him to restore his sight.” (Acts 9:11-12)
September 9, 2009
You Will Have A Third Son
One by one they came to tell me of a dream that they had. The dreams were all the same. Identical. Three different ladies in the church told me they had a dream that Carol and I would have a sixth child, and it would be a boy, our third son. None of them knew that others had the same dream. But each felt it important enough to come and tell us. And whenever dreams, or spiritual “signs”, come in a group of three, I knew to pay attention, because God was in it.
One small problem, though. I wasn’t excited to hear such news. Quite the opposite. I was disheartened. We already had five children and we were more than a bit overwhelmed. Like any other American family, three kids was plenty, thank you. Perhaps four. Our fifth was a surprise. But we never dreamt we would have a “quiver full”, six kids.
In fact, I was so distraught over the prospect of another child I did the unthinkable. I got down on my knees to talk with God, I wrestled with him to try to understand why He would do such a thing to us. This was after Carol had become pregnant with number six. So I asked Him, the giver of dreams, to take that child away, because we just simply could not handle that much more stress.
I don’t know what God was thinking to give in to such a foolish request, but He did. Carol miscarried. We lost that baby. I felt so ashamed. Disheartened, ten fold more than before.
Then confusion set in. I always reconciled God’s providence with man’s free will by saying that God calls us to be partners, co-creators of sorts. But I never bargained for my half of the partnership carrying more weight than His half. He should not have listened to me. He should have saved me from that ugly deed and the ensuing guilt and shame.
But His grace is far more powerful than His sparing me from my selfish, foolish, request. In a season of prayer for forgiveness and repentance he revealed that the child that was lost was Susanna. Not the son. Some day perhaps we shall see that unborn child, in eternity. What a calling of God that her heart would beat for just a short time to be to me a lesson of accepting God’s will, and also of the power of God’s grace.
Some time later our third son was born, just as God foretold in three dreams. Samuel, if ever there was a son of promise, a son prophesied by dreams, then it is you. Your mother wanted to name you Daniel. But when we held you in our hands that first day I said to her, “No, his name will be Samuel” (I Sam 1:20). By His amazing love God took me through an emotional, spiritual maze and changed my heart. I prayed a new prayer, and He answered it. He fulfilled the dreams and gave us the son. God, your grace is amazing, and the way you sometimes impart it is beyond imagination.
“In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)
“God does speak – now one way, now another… in a dream, in a vision of the night…” (Job 33)
One small problem, though. I wasn’t excited to hear such news. Quite the opposite. I was disheartened. We already had five children and we were more than a bit overwhelmed. Like any other American family, three kids was plenty, thank you. Perhaps four. Our fifth was a surprise. But we never dreamt we would have a “quiver full”, six kids.
In fact, I was so distraught over the prospect of another child I did the unthinkable. I got down on my knees to talk with God, I wrestled with him to try to understand why He would do such a thing to us. This was after Carol had become pregnant with number six. So I asked Him, the giver of dreams, to take that child away, because we just simply could not handle that much more stress.
I don’t know what God was thinking to give in to such a foolish request, but He did. Carol miscarried. We lost that baby. I felt so ashamed. Disheartened, ten fold more than before.
Then confusion set in. I always reconciled God’s providence with man’s free will by saying that God calls us to be partners, co-creators of sorts. But I never bargained for my half of the partnership carrying more weight than His half. He should not have listened to me. He should have saved me from that ugly deed and the ensuing guilt and shame.
But His grace is far more powerful than His sparing me from my selfish, foolish, request. In a season of prayer for forgiveness and repentance he revealed that the child that was lost was Susanna. Not the son. Some day perhaps we shall see that unborn child, in eternity. What a calling of God that her heart would beat for just a short time to be to me a lesson of accepting God’s will, and also of the power of God’s grace.
Some time later our third son was born, just as God foretold in three dreams. Samuel, if ever there was a son of promise, a son prophesied by dreams, then it is you. Your mother wanted to name you Daniel. But when we held you in our hands that first day I said to her, “No, his name will be Samuel” (I Sam 1:20). By His amazing love God took me through an emotional, spiritual maze and changed my heart. I prayed a new prayer, and He answered it. He fulfilled the dreams and gave us the son. God, your grace is amazing, and the way you sometimes impart it is beyond imagination.
“In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)
“God does speak – now one way, now another… in a dream, in a vision of the night…” (Job 33)
September 8, 2009
Two Steps Forward, One Back
Walking in sand is difficult. But walking uphill in loose sand to get to the trail made me wonder if I was going to make it. I had my grandson, Isaac, on my shoulders. Two steps forward, one step sliding back; two forward, one back. When I got to the top I turned to gaze back at my path of progress.
That's how my faith progresses. Trusting Jesus is relational, from first to last. I trust Him more and more -- His grace and love, His wisdom, His truth and knowledge, His timing. And He lovingly brings me along. Even patiently -- two steps forward, one back, two forward.
So here are some of my stories.
That's how my faith progresses. Trusting Jesus is relational, from first to last. I trust Him more and more -- His grace and love, His wisdom, His truth and knowledge, His timing. And He lovingly brings me along. Even patiently -- two steps forward, one back, two forward.
So here are some of my stories.
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