A highway in the sky. The ants were marching in a line as far as I could see. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. One line came up the wire, and another line went down the wire. Their highway was a power line that dropped in from a power pole to a masthead on the back of the roof. I was working on the roof that summer, as a contractor, replacing the shingles. Part of the job was to cut a hole in the roof to replace a furnace in the attic, while we had the roof torn off. And while the roof was opened up I went into the attic to find the nest where the carpenter ants were dwelling and spray it, destroying their home. But in the process, I was saving the home of my customer.
Before destroying them and their home I decided to sit on the roof, by the masthead, and observe. They were incredible. I marveled at their determination, their orderliness, their persistence. After all, it was a march of 80 feet on the wire to get to the power pole, then a climb down the pole of another 30 feet, and then out and about to forage for the queen and her workers back in the nest. And how many times a day did they make that trek? Rain or shine! From the moment the sun came up until the lasts rays of sunset. They never stopped, never rested. They didn’t even slow down, not even to pass one another on the wire. Busy, busy, busy. So diligent, so reliable, so punctual. So much so that Solomon praised their work ethic in one of his proverbs.
I decided to talk to the little critters that so captured my amazement. (Okay, perhaps I was just daydreaming.) I asked one of the ants if he ever took a break. He said, “Nope. I got six legs. Work, work, work. All day long.” I asked another if he ever talked to any of his buddies, or the Queen, or the worker guys in the nest. He said, “What? Stop and talk? Are you kidding? Just work. Anyone get out of line they get their head bit off.” So I asked one other if he was a happy little critter. He snapped back at me, “Happy? What’s that? Ant is as ant does!”
A little later in the day I sat in the shade of a tree to eat my lunch. I noticed a butterfly floating by, carefree, and so very, very beautiful. I couldn’t help but think of the ants and the butterfly, in comparison. That butterfly had once been a caterpillar, with many, many legs. But it didn’t work, work, work like the ant. It did do enough work, albeit, to fill its belly with food, build a cocoon, and wait for a change to happen that would be incredible beyond imagination. I think that butterfly was happy. I didn’t ask it, but I think it was. It enjoyed a relationship with its creator that was so unique, so full of grace.
The butterfly’s metamorphosis is like repentance, God changing our heart and making us a new creation. The ant is like the Pharisees and legalists that work so hard to please God, to present themselves righteous and acceptable, all the while traveling the broad road to destruction. Self righteous. Unhappy. Keeping the rules. And the traditions. The butterfly, on the other hand, it found the narrow gate, and the narrow path. The Way. It lived in love. And freedom. It trusted someone bigger than itself to bring it into its destiny. Grace is so very, very beautiful.
“We know that a man is not justified by observing the law, but by faith in Jesus… I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing…. Did you receive the Spirit by observing the law, or by believing?.... After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?... The righteous live by faith.” (Galatians 2, 3)
January 28, 2010
January 18, 2010
Tried So Hard. Failed. Then Grace
The magazine had a contest, asking readers to describe their best birthday in six words. The next month, their favorite vacation, in just six words. So I thought to try to write my testimony in just six words. And this is it: “Tried so hard. Failed. Then grace.”
Now this was at the age of 57, mind you, and a lot of water had gone under the bridge. In fact I had written my testimony many times before, at different stages of my life, and a different theme captured my message each time. But this one says more than any other about me, about my life, about what God has done in me. It’s not easy to tell, but it’s real. The story is humbling, on my part, but glorious on His. For you see His grace is truly amazing. Almost scandalous. Had I not failed so miserably I may have just kept trying so hard. And the depths of the nature of God’s grace might have eluded my finding out.
I was a pastor for many years. Without knowing it, though, I was trying to make myself pleasing and acceptable to God by all my own effort. He saved me, yes, but after that I had to present myself righteous to Him. So I tried. Tried so hard. Then one year the effort was not enough. I caved into temptation. I had an immoral relationship with another woman. I resigned from the church and wondered if I could ever be healed or ever draw close to God again. My wife wrote in her journal, “What I could not imagine would ever happen, it happened.”
For several years, then, I lived in guilt and shame. I didn’t tell anyone what had happened, not unless I felt morally obligated to do so. Otherwise, I kept it quiet. I put on a bigger mask, one that not only hid my failures, but also my guilt and shame. Let me be clear, it was not my wife, Carol, who kept me in guilt and shame. She told me just once the incredible depths of her hurt and pain, and I shall never forget it. But she didn’t hold it over me, didn’t constantly harangue me. Her love and forgiveness, in time, were incredible. She is one precious gift.
Admittedly, I am a very slow learner sometimes. It began to dawn on me that God still loved me. Yes I had failed him. Miserably so. But Jesus makes me righteous, not Dave Eymann. By trusting Jesus, simple as that sounds, God sees me as righteous. He loves me, really truly loves me, even when I fail. I could not be good enough, let alone perfect, no matter how hard I tried. All I could do was trust His love. I figured out that it is by His love alone that He changes my heart. It’s that powerful. Then it got through to my head and my heart that he forgives me for my failure. Apart from His forgiveness, shame and guilt would be my life and my destiny. But I had the sense that forgiveness would not be complete unless I could confess, unashamedly, that I had failed and that I was forgiven. Oh, but that nasty shame, it kept me bound up and afraid.
While God’s Spirit was slowly teaching me these truths two things developed. I heard Bill Thrall1 teach on grace, and it gave shape and form to all these heart-felt concepts. They were true. They were real. There is hope. Grace really is all it’s cracked up to be. And more. Then I sought out a group of men to meet with. I was desperate for some guys to trust, someone who could help me take off the masks, to be real, who would still love me, and help me walk in grace. I told them later that I had planned to give the group a try for two weeks and if there was no realness then I had my excuse already prepared to quit. But there was a tinge of hope. After six months of building relationships and pushing for authenticity, I finally told them my story. I’ve told more since. Why? Because it’s important that Christians know that grace isn’t only good for salvation, it’s our every day meat and potatoes. We can’t repent and turn ourselves around 180 degrees. How often had I tried that, and failed every time. By trust, always and only, we live and walk in His love, His forgiveness, His repentance. That’s the power of grace.
“For in the gospel a righteousness from God is revealed, a righteousness that is by trust relationship, from the first to the last, just as it is written, my righteous ones will live by trust relationship.” (Romans 1:17, my paraphrase)
“Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?” (Galatians 3:3)
1 Bill Thrall, along with two colleagues, has written two books about grace, True Faced, and Bo’s Café.
Now this was at the age of 57, mind you, and a lot of water had gone under the bridge. In fact I had written my testimony many times before, at different stages of my life, and a different theme captured my message each time. But this one says more than any other about me, about my life, about what God has done in me. It’s not easy to tell, but it’s real. The story is humbling, on my part, but glorious on His. For you see His grace is truly amazing. Almost scandalous. Had I not failed so miserably I may have just kept trying so hard. And the depths of the nature of God’s grace might have eluded my finding out.
I was a pastor for many years. Without knowing it, though, I was trying to make myself pleasing and acceptable to God by all my own effort. He saved me, yes, but after that I had to present myself righteous to Him. So I tried. Tried so hard. Then one year the effort was not enough. I caved into temptation. I had an immoral relationship with another woman. I resigned from the church and wondered if I could ever be healed or ever draw close to God again. My wife wrote in her journal, “What I could not imagine would ever happen, it happened.”
For several years, then, I lived in guilt and shame. I didn’t tell anyone what had happened, not unless I felt morally obligated to do so. Otherwise, I kept it quiet. I put on a bigger mask, one that not only hid my failures, but also my guilt and shame. Let me be clear, it was not my wife, Carol, who kept me in guilt and shame. She told me just once the incredible depths of her hurt and pain, and I shall never forget it. But she didn’t hold it over me, didn’t constantly harangue me. Her love and forgiveness, in time, were incredible. She is one precious gift.
Admittedly, I am a very slow learner sometimes. It began to dawn on me that God still loved me. Yes I had failed him. Miserably so. But Jesus makes me righteous, not Dave Eymann. By trusting Jesus, simple as that sounds, God sees me as righteous. He loves me, really truly loves me, even when I fail. I could not be good enough, let alone perfect, no matter how hard I tried. All I could do was trust His love. I figured out that it is by His love alone that He changes my heart. It’s that powerful. Then it got through to my head and my heart that he forgives me for my failure. Apart from His forgiveness, shame and guilt would be my life and my destiny. But I had the sense that forgiveness would not be complete unless I could confess, unashamedly, that I had failed and that I was forgiven. Oh, but that nasty shame, it kept me bound up and afraid.
While God’s Spirit was slowly teaching me these truths two things developed. I heard Bill Thrall1 teach on grace, and it gave shape and form to all these heart-felt concepts. They were true. They were real. There is hope. Grace really is all it’s cracked up to be. And more. Then I sought out a group of men to meet with. I was desperate for some guys to trust, someone who could help me take off the masks, to be real, who would still love me, and help me walk in grace. I told them later that I had planned to give the group a try for two weeks and if there was no realness then I had my excuse already prepared to quit. But there was a tinge of hope. After six months of building relationships and pushing for authenticity, I finally told them my story. I’ve told more since. Why? Because it’s important that Christians know that grace isn’t only good for salvation, it’s our every day meat and potatoes. We can’t repent and turn ourselves around 180 degrees. How often had I tried that, and failed every time. By trust, always and only, we live and walk in His love, His forgiveness, His repentance. That’s the power of grace.
“For in the gospel a righteousness from God is revealed, a righteousness that is by trust relationship, from the first to the last, just as it is written, my righteous ones will live by trust relationship.” (Romans 1:17, my paraphrase)
“Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?” (Galatians 3:3)
1 Bill Thrall, along with two colleagues, has written two books about grace, True Faced, and Bo’s Café.
January 12, 2010
Life Cycle Of A Giant
They took the sign down, and replaced it. Now it just reads, “Klootchy Creek County Park”. The old sign read, “Largest Sitka Spruce Tree in United States”. I can remember the first time I saw the tree, with Paul and Milt, on a trip to Canon Beach for a camping conference. We were awe struck. It was 17 feet in diameter, and 56 feet in circumference. It stood 200 feet tall. It was the largest tree in Oregon, and considered to be the oldest living organism in the entire state, of any kind, nearly 700 years old.
December 2, 2007. Hurricane force winds swept up the Oregon Coast and came inland near Seaside. Large swaths of trees were blown down, like toothpicks. Millions of board feet of timber. That wind storm brought down the top of that Giant Sitka Spruce, leaving only the base of the tree, 80 feet tall. It was sad. So much so that reporters on the TV news were choking up with tears.
If you were to pull into Klootchy Creek County Park today you would find a display sign which is now titled, “Life Cycle of a Giant.” It describes the time when the tree sprouted from the ground before Columbus discovered America. By the time it was 200 years old it had reached its height of 200 feet and would spend the rest of its life “bulking up”. Now that it is toppled it will stay in place as a nurse log to encourage native habitat and new trees to grow. The life cycle of that giant carries on to sustain the next generations.
Two times I have stopped to look at that tree, what’s left of it, and I still marvel at it. It reminded me, this last time, of one of my heroes of the faith, Samson. He was a giant in the early years of Israel. He was a judge, a warrior, a deliverer. He kept the Philistines at bay, and kept the Israelites safe. His birth was pretty special, too. An angel told his mother that she would give birth to this son. The angel told the parents that he should drink no wine, eat no unclean food, and never cut his hair. Samson observed that Nazarite vow faithfully throughout his life, one of only three men we know of who did so. He was pretty unconventional, it can go without saying, but he fulfilled God’s calling, with God’s blessing and anointing upon him. He must have been quite a guy, bulked up, with arms and legs of steel, and braids of hair down his back. I would have loved to hang around with him. And then there were the many times when the Spirit of God stirred in him, and anointed him with power. Wow! What a giant!
But the hurricane wind came through and toppled the giant. Her name was Delilah. But an amazing part of that story is often missed. The historian’s account of Samson’s life ends at the close of Judges chapter 15. The account of succumbing to Delilah, and of his eyes being gouged out, is an addendum. It is his own story, a self-disclosure. After three years in a Philistine prison his hair grew back. God wasn’t obligated to renew his part of the vow, but he did. That’s grace. Samson was a giant of faith, and God anointed him again. And he took 3000 God-mocking Philistines to their grave in his last epoch act as deliverer.
Samson’s personal testimony of his folly, his shame, his pain, and his restoration is an integral part of his grand story of faith. He trusted God, and God loved him. I have heard Bible teachers say, “The only reason that Samson’s story is in the Bible is to teach us how we should not live.” One time I wanted to stand up and scream, “No, no, no! His story is a story of faith!” It is an epic story of one of the great giants of faith.
That Bible teacher I wanted to scream at is typical of modern day “Pharisees”, who want to control people’s behavior by fear and guilt. They think that it’s more effective to coerce obedience than to teach how to walk in faith, in trust, and in grace. They presume that righteousness can be mustered up by self effort, rather than coming through the redemption of Jesus – always and only. Only those few “teachers” really think they can be perfect enough to make themselves pleasing to God, but sadly they lead so many more down the broad road of self-righteousness. Most of us, though, know we are more like Samson and need to be taught how to live in faith so that we can know God’s love, forgiveness, and repentance. Only his love can change us. Yes Samson failed. Miserably. But in his blindness he believed God. Anew, and deeper. That’s why he is a giant of faith, whose weakness was turned to strength (Hebrew 11:32-34). Never trust anyone who does not walk with a limp.
The life cycle of this giant, Samson, nurtures generations upon generations, for all who would understand faith. God doesn’t want us to be perfect. That’s impossible, anyways. He wants us to be real, honest, and humble. The opposite of sin is not virtue, but rather faith. To me, Samson’s faith is as thrilling to look at as that giant Sitka Spruce tree, what’s left of it.
December 2, 2007. Hurricane force winds swept up the Oregon Coast and came inland near Seaside. Large swaths of trees were blown down, like toothpicks. Millions of board feet of timber. That wind storm brought down the top of that Giant Sitka Spruce, leaving only the base of the tree, 80 feet tall. It was sad. So much so that reporters on the TV news were choking up with tears.
If you were to pull into Klootchy Creek County Park today you would find a display sign which is now titled, “Life Cycle of a Giant.” It describes the time when the tree sprouted from the ground before Columbus discovered America. By the time it was 200 years old it had reached its height of 200 feet and would spend the rest of its life “bulking up”. Now that it is toppled it will stay in place as a nurse log to encourage native habitat and new trees to grow. The life cycle of that giant carries on to sustain the next generations.
Two times I have stopped to look at that tree, what’s left of it, and I still marvel at it. It reminded me, this last time, of one of my heroes of the faith, Samson. He was a giant in the early years of Israel. He was a judge, a warrior, a deliverer. He kept the Philistines at bay, and kept the Israelites safe. His birth was pretty special, too. An angel told his mother that she would give birth to this son. The angel told the parents that he should drink no wine, eat no unclean food, and never cut his hair. Samson observed that Nazarite vow faithfully throughout his life, one of only three men we know of who did so. He was pretty unconventional, it can go without saying, but he fulfilled God’s calling, with God’s blessing and anointing upon him. He must have been quite a guy, bulked up, with arms and legs of steel, and braids of hair down his back. I would have loved to hang around with him. And then there were the many times when the Spirit of God stirred in him, and anointed him with power. Wow! What a giant!
But the hurricane wind came through and toppled the giant. Her name was Delilah. But an amazing part of that story is often missed. The historian’s account of Samson’s life ends at the close of Judges chapter 15. The account of succumbing to Delilah, and of his eyes being gouged out, is an addendum. It is his own story, a self-disclosure. After three years in a Philistine prison his hair grew back. God wasn’t obligated to renew his part of the vow, but he did. That’s grace. Samson was a giant of faith, and God anointed him again. And he took 3000 God-mocking Philistines to their grave in his last epoch act as deliverer.
Samson’s personal testimony of his folly, his shame, his pain, and his restoration is an integral part of his grand story of faith. He trusted God, and God loved him. I have heard Bible teachers say, “The only reason that Samson’s story is in the Bible is to teach us how we should not live.” One time I wanted to stand up and scream, “No, no, no! His story is a story of faith!” It is an epic story of one of the great giants of faith.
That Bible teacher I wanted to scream at is typical of modern day “Pharisees”, who want to control people’s behavior by fear and guilt. They think that it’s more effective to coerce obedience than to teach how to walk in faith, in trust, and in grace. They presume that righteousness can be mustered up by self effort, rather than coming through the redemption of Jesus – always and only. Only those few “teachers” really think they can be perfect enough to make themselves pleasing to God, but sadly they lead so many more down the broad road of self-righteousness. Most of us, though, know we are more like Samson and need to be taught how to live in faith so that we can know God’s love, forgiveness, and repentance. Only his love can change us. Yes Samson failed. Miserably. But in his blindness he believed God. Anew, and deeper. That’s why he is a giant of faith, whose weakness was turned to strength (Hebrew 11:32-34). Never trust anyone who does not walk with a limp.
The life cycle of this giant, Samson, nurtures generations upon generations, for all who would understand faith. God doesn’t want us to be perfect. That’s impossible, anyways. He wants us to be real, honest, and humble. The opposite of sin is not virtue, but rather faith. To me, Samson’s faith is as thrilling to look at as that giant Sitka Spruce tree, what’s left of it.
January 7, 2010
Healing The Car
They knocked on my door and asked for help. Their car wouldn’t start. It was parked over in the church parking lot, and I lived only two doors away. So they came and asked me for help. Me, the mechanic who is only good for opening the hood and saying, “Yep, sure doesn’t sound good!”
On the walk over to the church they began to chide me a bit, making comments about my newfound quest to try to understand the grace gift of healing. I didn’t claim to be an expert at healing, not even a mini-spurt. I was only searching out the unknown reaches of my faith. Not theologically, but practically. And these few guys thought I was kind of looney. So they jokingly said to me, “Hey, why don’t you lay hands on the car and pray. See if God can heal it?”
So I did. I really, really did. What I mean is not just really, really, I did it. I mean I really, really, really did the very thing they mocked, believing God wanted me to quietly and graciously be the agent to demonstrate His glory and power. Not to put them in their place, but to marvel at the goodness, the graciousness, and the unlimited power and glory of God.
I wasn’t sure God would heal the car. If not, then the chiding would only intensify. But, oh well, what’s new? And if he did then I would be out the trouble of having to stand around for an hour in the rain and diagnose the problem, go get jumper cables, or who knows what.
They stood back and watched as I stood in front of the car, put my hands on the hood, and prayed. At least they were reverent enough to be quiet while I asked God, “Lord, please make this car to start, for your glory. Amen.” I then told them to go try and start it. Varooom!! It started right up. They were surprised, almost shocked, but not wanting to appear such. I gave each of them a little hug, directed praise to God, and sent them on their way with God’s blessing.
On the walk home I thought to myself the same thing I knew most others would think whenever I told this story. Just maybe there was nothing really wrong with the car. Or maybe it was just an intermittent problem that just happened to correct itself on that turn of the ignition. Well, maybe. But I concluded that God truly had been in on it.
About that time I had another healing I was praying for. I helped out as a volunteer in physical therapy where my wife worked as a nurse, Providence Child Center. It is a facility for the most medically fragile children in the state of Oregon. One particular little 10 year old girl that I worked with each week got my attention. God whispered in my mind one day, “this one can be prayed for, for healing.” She was in a prolonged coma, and partially paralyzed. It had started mysteriously on a family vacation.
Every week I prayed for her as I helped with therapy. I prayed during the week, too, asking God how to accomplish this healing that He had suggested. But nothing ever happened. I came up blank. She was never healed, not that I know of. Only loved, and prayed for. God bless her.
“Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon him while he is near…. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55: 6-9)
On the walk over to the church they began to chide me a bit, making comments about my newfound quest to try to understand the grace gift of healing. I didn’t claim to be an expert at healing, not even a mini-spurt. I was only searching out the unknown reaches of my faith. Not theologically, but practically. And these few guys thought I was kind of looney. So they jokingly said to me, “Hey, why don’t you lay hands on the car and pray. See if God can heal it?”
So I did. I really, really did. What I mean is not just really, really, I did it. I mean I really, really, really did the very thing they mocked, believing God wanted me to quietly and graciously be the agent to demonstrate His glory and power. Not to put them in their place, but to marvel at the goodness, the graciousness, and the unlimited power and glory of God.
I wasn’t sure God would heal the car. If not, then the chiding would only intensify. But, oh well, what’s new? And if he did then I would be out the trouble of having to stand around for an hour in the rain and diagnose the problem, go get jumper cables, or who knows what.
They stood back and watched as I stood in front of the car, put my hands on the hood, and prayed. At least they were reverent enough to be quiet while I asked God, “Lord, please make this car to start, for your glory. Amen.” I then told them to go try and start it. Varooom!! It started right up. They were surprised, almost shocked, but not wanting to appear such. I gave each of them a little hug, directed praise to God, and sent them on their way with God’s blessing.
On the walk home I thought to myself the same thing I knew most others would think whenever I told this story. Just maybe there was nothing really wrong with the car. Or maybe it was just an intermittent problem that just happened to correct itself on that turn of the ignition. Well, maybe. But I concluded that God truly had been in on it.
About that time I had another healing I was praying for. I helped out as a volunteer in physical therapy where my wife worked as a nurse, Providence Child Center. It is a facility for the most medically fragile children in the state of Oregon. One particular little 10 year old girl that I worked with each week got my attention. God whispered in my mind one day, “this one can be prayed for, for healing.” She was in a prolonged coma, and partially paralyzed. It had started mysteriously on a family vacation.
Every week I prayed for her as I helped with therapy. I prayed during the week, too, asking God how to accomplish this healing that He had suggested. But nothing ever happened. I came up blank. She was never healed, not that I know of. Only loved, and prayed for. God bless her.
“Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon him while he is near…. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55: 6-9)
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