Time Stand Still

It's July already?  For real, though??  And before I blink my eyes we will be into August already ... it does seem an inescapable aspect of getting older, no matter how gracefully you do it, that the passage of time seems to move at supersonic speeds and we find ourselves saying phrases like, "Was that REALLY a year ago?" or "We've been married FOUR YEARS ALREADY?"  That last one is actually a statement expressing excitement and thankfulness on my part, just to be clear (though I shall not presume to speak for my husband :) 

So I missed the month of June, from a blogging perspective, but my beloved and I did celebrate four years of marriage (just the beginning!); Father's Day with my daddy who is precious to me - I love opportunities to honor him for being such a good father; and reluctantly, it must be said, my birthday that took me yet another step closer to the looming BIG 40.   

The end of June marked two years since I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.  What the future holds for me, for my husband, whether we will be able to have a family, I do not even pretend to know.  The other day, I had an unexpected conversation with a lovely lady who told me that her husband has been living with MS for almost 40 years - he is now in a wheelchair and has been declared legally blind.  Have thoughts of that happening to me crossed my mind?  Yep.  She asked me, very matter-of-factly, "Do you ever wonder, 'Why me?'", telling me that she has wrestled often with that very question when she looks at her husband.  My honest answer in response was simply, "No."  I told her that from the time I was diagnosed until now, my thought has always been, "Why not me?"  If Jesus could step into time and onto this mortal earth in its fallen, broken state and submit himself willingly to his Father's will, go to a horrific death by the infamous Roman torture device of crucifixion to be slain for my sins, how could I possibly complain about having MS, cancer, or anything at all?

Has it been a struggle?  Absolutely.  Does it grieve my heart to know the burden it places on my husband?  Without a doubt.  Do I know, barring a miracle cure or a new heavenly body, that this body will continue to deteriorate in ways that I simply have no control over?  Certainly.  What simply takes my breath away is that when Jesus hung on the cross for six hours, bleeding, suffocating, dehydrated beyond imagination, gasping for air as he pushed himself up on the nails driven through his feet, he CHOSE to take all my sins and provide the restitution that I could never achieve on my own.  Nearly 2,000 years before I was even conceived, he chose to be the sacrifice for me, knowing that I would sin against him - the perfect and holy God of the universe - and yet loving me so much that he offered me a way to be reconciled to my Heavenly Father.  I really can't get over it (and hope and pray that I never do) - though I had not yet sinned, being not yet born, he paid it all ... my past, present and future sins.  What astounding love, what breathtaking mercy and such amazing grace.

So I do "boast" in my weakness, insomuch as it brings glory to God - and continue to be humbled that he trusts me to point to his strength at work in me, his joy magnified in me, and his transforming work in my heart that allows me to grow more and more into the image of Christ.  And there is joy - oh, so much joy.  Not to be confused with happiness, as joy and happiness are not synonymous terms.  There is happiness too ... laughing with my husband, sharing our hopes and dreams for the future, finding pleasure in the things that we were created to enjoy.  There are also "dark nights of the soul."  Will I ever experience the joy of motherhood is a question that can easily push me into one of those dark nights.  But always, always, there is joy in all circumstances.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.   

~Hebrews 12:1-3

It is my prayer that, as time marches on and the earth keeps spinning on its axis, we who live in this fallen world with all its discouragement, happiness, disappointment, treasured moments, betrayal, friendship, anger, forgiveness, hate and love, will take hold of the joy set before us - with Jesus as our source and our example - and never, ever let go.

Playing in the dirt.

Otherwise known as gardening, for those plant-whisperers blessed with a green thumb.  I am not one of them.  My thumb is decidedly the blackest of black.  We were able to take a couple of plants home last night for being table hosts at the Annual Miracle Hill Ministries banquet, and my sweet husband even remarked that the plants would surely die.  WELL . . .all I have to say to that is, GAME ON.  And so, in an effort to prove him wrong (not really), I spent the morning planting a gorgeous red plant with really pretty flowers and a lovely yellow flower plant.  Don't ask me what the names are.  In the process, I remembered why I loathe gardening.  Besides the fact that I am now covered in ant bites, planting the beautiful flowers made me notice all the weeds in the mulch bed and in our lawn.  Being me (read that: slightly OCD), I started digging up weeds and very soon had a nice layer of dirt, mulch and, let's not forget, ant bites . . . those little buggers are vicious!!  All in all, it was so much easier to plant the beautiful flowers than it was to dig up/tug at/yell at those stubborn weeds.

Although I will probably never enjoy gardening - and we shall see whether the new plants "surely die" or live to bloom another season or two - it does always remind me of my own internal garden, so to speak.  God is so gracious with his gifts to me . . . and while I am so thankful for and admire the beauty of them, there are far too many weeds in my heart.  To think that God is willing to get dirty and calloused in order to dig out the weeds takes my breath away.  Some weeds are fairly easy, of course, and their roots come up with a good tug.  But others, whose roots go so deep and seem to stretch endlessly, require hard toil - the kind that leave you with blisters on your hand and an aching back.

It's interesting that God's Word to us essentially starts in a garden - with no weeds!  Literally and spiritually.  Ahhhh, if only our lawn was like that.  The word garden appears in at least 21 books of the Bible - my favorites are the references in the Song of Solomon and Isaiah 58:11.  Also interesting is the fact that Jesus spent his last hours praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, at the foot of the Mount of Olives, before he was betrayed and handed over to be judged and murdered as an innocent sacrifice for us.

He knew it was his last night, and he chose to spend it in one of his favorite places, the garden, talking to his Father.  The ultimate act of gardening was done that night by this innocent, blameless God-man in willingly submitting himself to death for the sake of a desperately lost world.  In the English Standard Version (ESV), there is no mention of the word garden after the first four books of the New Testament. Why?  Maybe Paul, Peter, John and the other writers of the NT disliked gardening as much as I do.  Then again, Jesus is very much in the business of weeding, pruning and planting today for those who follow him.

He is the ultimate Gardener.  I am so grateful he never gives up on me, no matter how thick and pervasive the weed-infestation.  

Oh, Eve . . .

First of all, I must confess that more than once I have uttered words blaming Adam and Eve for their poor choice that landed us in this mess.

In doing the Bible in a year plan on YouVersion -- awesome resource, by the way . . . can be downloaded to your phone as well with all kinds of different reading plans -- I am currently in the midst of Leviticus and all the laws pertaining to ordination of the priests and sacrifices. One might say that I'm knee deep in blood and guts, along with a few other things. And one would be right, figuratively speaking. For whatever reason -- perhaps the fact that I don't eat red meat and/or the fact that I have never been a farmer, with the exception of our one year stint living out in the county ... which was pretty much limited to waking up and finding a cow in our front yard and getting highly annoyed with the neighboring rooster's broken alarm clock (3 pm crowing, really??)-- I am having a hard time stomaching some of the more graphic details. Kind of like when my husband tries to sneak the giblets into the stuffing at Thanksgiving (and for those of you who think that's normal, stop it!! I beg you.). Or the time when my sister and I were young and our mom decided to serve liver for dinner, disguised as "beef nuggets." Ah, the stomach turns just thinking about it. Quite frankly, it is a relief to move on to the New Testament and Psalms. And drink my marvelously-red-meat-free Vanilla Chai soy protein drink.

Which I think is the point (moving on to New Testament, that is, not my drink). Adam and Eve did live in perfection - no sin, no death, no blood and guts, clothing-challenged, and in direct fellowship with God, who walked with them in the garden. And they screwed up.  MAJORLY.  It is always easy to point fingers and blame the first couple for the world's ills, until I wonder if I would have chosen any differently. Hindsight is an awesome thing, and also provides many of us ample ammunition to attack others' decisions and choices. I'm quite relieved that God has no need of hindsight; rather, in His foresight/wisdom/omniscience/mercy, God provided a path back to the garden of perfection. The path is messy and bloody and difficult and painful, because we are still walking in this world. But ALL of the Bible points to Jesus, who loved us enough to become our bloody sacrifice once and for all, and who loves us so much that he will walk the road with us to the end.

And the end is not the end, but the beginning of things restored - a new heaven and a new earth. I do so love grand, epic stories, and being one character woven into the tapestry of THE grand, epic story ... well, it's actually incomprehensible. Whether viewed in hindsight, foresight, or now sight, GRACE is AMAZING.

Walk while you have the light.

I used to labor under the impression that walking into walls, cars, doors...basically anything and everything...was normal. At least for me. Two years ago this June, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, which helped to explain a lot regarding my lack of balance, dizziness, etc. (or it may be that the walking into walls is just a product of my natural grace). My neurologist told me to be very careful about walking in the dark - he said it would disorient me and throw off my balance even more than "normal."

Today is Palm Sunday, and I am still wearing the red Hosanna bracelet that was given out at church months ago (and not to digress, but yes, I do clean it). I'm a little embarrassed at my ignorance up to that point, not knowing the actual Greek meaning of the word "hosanna." Growing up in church, I thought it an exclamation of praise only, inextricably linked with Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem the week before his crucifixon ... the Sunday that has become known by many as Palm Sunday. So I was surprised, and grateful (it's always better to have the correct knowledge - I'm funny that way) to learn that "hosanna" is based on a Greek word of the New Testament derived from a combination of two Hebrew words of the Old Testament, pronounced yaw-shah. It means means to save or deliver. The other word is naw, meaning pray. Or, as John Piper has stated:

"[I]f you look in a Greek dictionary to find what it means, you know what you find? You find that it is really not originally a Greek word after all. The men who wrote the New Testament in Greek ... just used Greek letters to make the sound of a Hebrew phrase. ... Our English word 'hosanna' comes from a Greek word 'hosanna' which comes from a Hebrew phrase hoshiya na. And that Hebrew phrase is found one solitary place in the whole Old Testament, Psalm 118:25, where it means, 'Save, please!' It is a cry to God for help. Like when somebody pushes you off the diving board before you can swim and you come up hollering: 'Help, save me . . . Hoshiya na!'

Actually, it all sounds Greek to me. Or Japanese, really. But what a thought that the people were actually crying out/praying for Jesus to save/deliver them, and that he willingly became our deliverance. I still wear my bracelet to remind me that I can't (and don't want) to do life in my own strength. The God who created the cosmos stepped into time to become a mortal man. The God who spoke the Sun, the moon, the planets and galaxies into being actually walked on this dusty, decadent earth, felt all the emotions and pain that I feel (and more), and STILL loves me and calls me to follow him, even though it was for my sake that Jesus bore that pain. He could have opted out. It always amazes me that he didn't.

Instead, Jesus told his disciples "Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him. Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? But for this purpose I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name." Then a voice came from heaven: "I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again." John 12:25-28 (emphasis added)

A crowd had gathered at that point, and they responded to Jesus' words with a challenge (the ESV says "the crowd answered him"). I'm going to assume from the context of this chapter that the crowd was being cheeky, ornery and/or cynical. "We have heard from the Law that the Christ remains forever. How can you say that the Son of Man must be lifted up? Who is this Son of Man?"

Jesus' response was the exact opposite of what I would have said to the cheeky buggers ... probably something along the lines of "You obviously don't care, so I'm done with you." Instead he said to them, "The light is among you for a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, lest darkness overtake you. The one who walks in the darkness does not know where he is going." John 12:34-35 Remarkably, he warned them and offered them hope.

Walking in the darkness is a dangerous exercise, physically (particularly for people who are horizontally challenged like me) and especially spiritually. Why would we fumble around in the dark, tripping over obstacles/traps in our path, when we could simply turn on the light and walk in it?

God, save us/deliver us from the darkness!