Portrait of a Perfect Father

As we approach Father's Day, many do so with heavy hearts and mixed emotions. If our fathers have disappointed us, abandoned us, mistreated us, or left us through death: what a gift to know that we have a Perfect Father, who has never and will never disappoint, abandon, mistreat or leave us! And if our fathers have done their best and we couldn't wish for any better - even then: what a gift to know God as the Father who loves us infinitely, without fail.

Our Perfect Father...
...loves His children.
Behold, what manner of love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called children of God! (1 John 3:1)
As a father has compassion upon his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him. (Psalm 103:13)
...knows and understands His children.

O Lord, You have searched me and You know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; You perceive my thoughts from afar; You comprehend my path and are acquainted with all my ways... (Psalm 139:1-3)

...enjoys His children.
“The Lord your God is in your midst, the Mighty One, who saves; He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet you with His love; He will rejoice over you with singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17)
...is responsive to His children.
Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; He rises to show you compassion... How gracious He will be when you cry for help! As soon as He hears, He will answer you. (Isaiah 30:18-19)
...guides and teaches His children.
The Lord delights in the way of the man whose steps He has made firm. Though he stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with His right hand. (Psalm 37:23-24)
He will feed His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs with His arm, And carry  them in His bosom, and gently lead those who are with young. (Isaiah 40:11)
...protects His children.  
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by name; You are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you. For I am the Lord your God...” (Isaiah 43:1-3)
...comforts His children.
The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, And saves such as have a contrite spirit. (Psalm 34:18)
...corrects His children.
Do not be discouraged when you are corrected by Him, for whom the Lord loves He disciplines... For our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best, but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. (Hebrews 12: 5-6 & 10)
...is generous with His children.
The Lord is near to all who call upon Him, To all who call upon Him in truth. He will fulfill the desire of those who fear Him; He also will hear their cry and save them. (Psalm 145:17-19)
How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings. They are abundantly satisfied with the fullness of Your house, And You give them drink from the river of Your pleasures. (Psalm 36:7-9)
...provides for His children.
And my God shall meet all your need according to His riches in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:19)
...prepares a future for His children.
“In my Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. .. I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also.” (John 14:2-3)

Maturing into Dependence

I marveled as I watched my eldest, robed in blue, swagger up to the platform: How on earth did this miracle baby grow into a 6-foot, 18-year-old young man, ready to grab the world by its tail and head to college? Is he really ready to handle his own finances, manage his life, move forward into adulthood - without me?!

I’m not whining, really! If Matthew still needed me to take care of him, if he couldn’t function without his mom and dad, if he felt too ill-equipped and insecure to venture beyond his childhood home, then we would not have done our job. He is ready to navigate the challenges of life with discernment –to live out his unique God-given calling, relying on His wisdom, and knowing when to seek wisdom from teachers, friends, mentors (and yes, hopefully, sometimes, even us!).

In short, maturity for a young man leaving home is, at least in part, related to growing in independence from his parents.

So, what is maturity in God’s dictionary?

I know how I would have answered 10 years ago:

Doing more “right things” and fewer “wrong things”

Not being tempted any more

Emotional stability, no matter my circumstances

Having a more upbeat, extroverted personality

Serving more, reading the Bible more, praying more, _______ more (fill in the blank!)

But that’s not it at all, I know now. Maturity is less about the external measurements we might take of ourselves or others; it’s more about knowing Jesus deeply, growing in dependence upon Him more, and upon myself and others less. Of course, this will be reflected in the externals: behavior, attitude, demeanor. But those externals are not the measure of maturity in Christ. My relationship with Him and dependence upon Him are.

Here are a few depictions of maturity from God’s Word:

Being filled with Jesus, so that we are not swayed by the variety of ideas and false teachings that assault us every day. Maturity means our words are characterized by truth and love. (Ephesians 4:13-15)

Trusting that the God who called you to Himself is always at work in you, maturing you from your first day to your final one on earth. (Philippians 1:6)

An active dependence upon God, who works in us, in our desires and choices for His glory. (Philippians 2:13)

Seeing the bigger picture when our faith is tested by suffering. Maturity means choosing to continue to trust God in spite of what we see, enduring through the hard times as well as the easier days. (James 1:2-4)

Walking steadily in faith and growing closer to Jesus, and choosing to thank God daily along the way. (Colossians 2:6-7)

Exercising faith in Christ in your daily life, which causes faith to grow strong, and multiplies love for others (2 Thessalonians 1:3)

In short, spiritual maturity is related to growing in dependence upon Jesus.

Jesus Himself (undeniably the most spiritually mature person who ever lived!) depended upon the Father in this way. In John 5: 19 & 30, He said:

 “I assure you: The Son is not able to do anything on His own, but only what He sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, the Son also does these things in the same way . . . I can do nothing on My own. I judge only as I hear, and My judgment is righteous, because I do not seek My own will, but the will of Him who sent Me.” (See also John 6:38, 12:49-50, 14:10, 17:4)

Matthew, my firstborn, even as you grow into independence from your earthly mom and dad, may you grow in dependence upon your Truest Father, who will always be with you (and whose Spirit lives within you) wherever you go.

May you continue to grow: in responsibility, in love and compassion toward others, in your skills and abilities, in problem-solving, in facing the challenges that lie ahead. And may you grow in Christ: in trusting Him more and more in those responsibilities, in the love you share with others, in your wisdom and abilities as you navigate your life with an ever-deepening dependence upon Him.

Merciful Justice: The Humble Walk of Jesus

(Part 2 of 2)

Our humility must be the life of Christ, the lamb of God, within us. ~ Andrew Murray

During the Lord’s brief time on earth, He lived Micah 6:8 - He walked humbly with God, extending mercy and justice. Heart and hand, flawlessly integrated, fully expressed. Two examples involve vulnerable women in shameful circumstances:

The woman with the 12-year flow of blood (Mark 5:25-34): Can you imagine the isolation, the rejection, the shame?  

Weakened by blood loss, impoverished by all she’d spent on ineffective medicines and doctors. Perpetually labeled unclean (see Leviticus 15:25-27), she would have been excluded from the temple. If she was a married woman, sexual relations would have been taboo, making her husband and bed unclean. Anything she touched would be declared unclean – including people in a crowd. Including Jesus. No, in her condition, she couldn’t go to Him directly; instead, she brushed against his robe and retreated into the swirling throng. And her suffering ceased!

The unclean, touching the holy, in faith.

How did Jesus respond?

He called attention to her in the midst of the chaotic crowd - but not to shame her. Instead, He looked her in the eye. He commended her faith. He pronounced her healed. And He called her daughter – the only time in the gospels where Jesus calls anyone daughter.

Merciful justice.

The woman caught in adultery (John 8:2-11): Can you imagine the dozens of glaring eyes, the humiliation of your sexual sin being broadcast to the Sunday School teacher in front of the whole class?

She had no protector, no advocate. Surely she expected the condemnation that the Law dictated (see Leviticus 20:10).

How did Jesus respond?

He left the Pharisees’ challenges and accusations unanswered. He turned the spotlight away from her, the accused, and placed it instead upon her accusers. After the men had slunk away and the crowd had dispersed, Jesus looked the woman in the eye. He released her from condemnation. And He instructed her to leave her sinful lifestyle. To live fully in the freedom and dignity He had bestowed upon her.

Merciful justice.

How do we respond in merciful justice to those we serve? We walk the way that Jesus walked: humbly with our God. In utter union with the Lord. In humble dependence upon God, whose merciful justice then extends itself through our lives, touching those in need around us.

 “Most assuredly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of Himself, but what He sees the Father do; for whatever He does, the Son also does in like manner” (John 5:19, see also John 6:38, 7:16, 8:28, 14:24 & Philippians 2:5-9).

Merciful Justice (Part 1): The Heart of God

“But let him who glories glory in this, that he understands and knows Me,
That I am the Lord, exercising faithful love, justice, and righteousness in the earth.
For in these I delight,” says the Lord. ~ Jeremiah 9:24

In our American culture, the term “justice” is commonly associated with punishing the criminal for his offense. After all, we have the “justice system.” And when someone’s been harmed, we want the offender “brought to justice.” The concept of mercy is not typically a part of our American cultural definition of justice.

But in God’s lexicon, justice and mercy are as intimately entwined as heart and hands, attitude and action, motive and service.

In his book, Generous Justice, Timothy Keller writes that the term translated “mercy” in Micah 6:8 is chesedh, the word for God’s unconditional grace and compassion, His heart. The word for justice is mishpat, which emphasizes the active expression of a heart of chesedh. So to humbly walk with God, we practice justice toward others with a heart of mercy.

Mishpat is far more holistic than punishing wrongdoing; it encompasses all the ways in which we fight for people’s rights, for their dignity as image-bearers of God. So “doing justice” will often involve care for and protection of the needy and disadvantaged within our society. To quote Keller:

“We do justice when we give all human beings their due as creations of God. Doing justice includes not only the righting of wrongs, but generosity and social concern, especially toward the poor and vulnerable. This kind of life reflects the character of God.”

As we contemplate God’s character, it shouldn’t surprise us that justice and mercy are flawlessly integrated in His heart. After all, His ways are justice and mercy:

He is the Rock, His work is perfect; For all His ways are justice,
A God of truth and without injustice; Righteous and upright is He (Deuteronomy 32:4).

Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne;
Mercy and truth go before Your face (Psalm 89:14).

He identifies Himself by His loving care for the poor and vulnerable:

For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality nor takes a bribe. He administers justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the stranger, giving him food and clothing (Deuteronomy 10:17-18).

And in Micah 6:8, He calls us to identify ourselves as those who walk in His ways, reflecting His heart of merciful justice.

Richmond Retrospective: Seven Lessons Learned (and one I'm still learning)

Yes, we were stranded in a hotel in a snowstorm - but God never once left me stranded.

I packed for a 3-night, 4-day stay in Richmond (VA), where the boys were slated to fence in the Junior Olympics. (Yes! The Junior OLYMPICS!!) National fencing competitions are intense, exhausting, marathon events for fencers and families alike. As much as I love the boys’ skill and passion, I’m always ready to head home at the end.

Except, this time, there was a snowstorm coming when we were ready to leave. And it was 15 degrees outside (not ideal for our diesel vehicle). And the car would not turn over. We were stuck. Six hours from home. In a snowstorm. Without our car.

(How do you spell panic?)

Since returning home (yay! I may never leave again), I’ve contemplated our “extended stay” and what God showed me and taught me, during a time which I was honestly in no mood to learn anything from anyone. Still, His smile never faltered, even when mine was nowhere to be found.

Seven lessons I learned:

1. Always pack Febreeze. A full bottle. It was of great solace to me in our hotel room, which I shared with a husband and two teen-aged sons. And all their fencing equipment. And socks. 

2. Bring more books than I think I’ll read. Twice as many. No, three times. Without an absorbing book, I morph into a caged animal, snarling and restless. Our visit to Barnes & Noble was a healing time for me (save for the incident in Starbuck’s– refer to #3): just rubbing shoulders with all those new books, poring over countless dust jackets, jotting down new titles for future reading (although hopefully not during an unexpected extended stay in a small hotel room in a bad storm).  

3. When in Starbuck’s, do not close my eyes for too long. Otherwise, the barista may startle me by tapping me on the shoulder, announcing emphatically, “Ma’am, you cannot sleep here.” My protestations that I am only closing my eyes to quell an oncoming headache may not convince her, as she continues to believe that I am an indigent who has wandered in off the subzero streets. “Ma’am, you need to leave,” I may hear. This really happened to me. As Dave Barry says: I am not making this up. When I told Frank why we had to leave quickly, he looked me up and down, then remarked: “Well, we may be homeless right now. But you don’t look homeless.” (Smooth talker.)

4. I am actually addicted to Zumba. Mentally, physically, emotionally. It was one of the things I missed the most (after my bed, my books, and my routine). Enough to heed my facebook friend’s advice to dance to Spanish music videos on the tiny strip of exposed carpeting between the two queen-sized beds in our hotel room. Cramped my style, but it was better than nothing, and I only stubbed my toe on the bed frame once. 

5. After 24 years of marriage, my husband can still be a white knight. I had expected grouchiness over the mounting stack of bills: extra hotel nights, towing and garage expenses, rental car, more eating out, lost work days. Instead, he promptly declared it an adventure and let the boys push the dead vehicle down three flights of the parking garage, where the tow truck awaited. He treated us twice to the nearby diner we had discovered (instead of cheaping it at KFC/Taco Bell) and was extra-patient with me while I moped in my pit. He and the boys gave me time alone to Zumba in our room, didn’t criticize me for my mood, didn’t  push for the cheaper (and riskier) plan for getting us home sooner. He even bowed gallantly to my plea to hang out at the nearby Barnes and Noble for hours on end (mind you – after 15 minutes in the magazine section, he’s done). In the face of my black mood, his white-knight nature gleamed brightly.

6. I can tire of Food Network. This surprised me because – not having cable, satellite, or any other paid TV service – I only get to watch it when I travel! But if I never see another episode of Diners, Drive-ins and Dives, it will be too soon. I mean, does Guy Fieri even cook?! Or does he just inhale everyone else’s menu items, so viewers can hear him say “Mmmmm!” and watch sauce drip down his spiky beard? I have no patience for perky Giada or those sickly-sweet cupcake wars. Even our favorite show, Chopped, tasted like stale leftovers after three back-to-back episodes. (Refer back to #2.)  

7. My pillow is worth its weight in gold. Even though it consumes valuable space in our small hatchback, already stuffed with fencing bags, camping mattresses, school books and other Smid essentials. But that pillow is a travelling chiropractor for my creaky neck, a healing slice of heaven in a hotel room. I’m soooo glad I didn’t leave home without it.

Finally, one priceless lesson I continue to learn:

Even when it’s tough for me to smile, I can see and appreciate God’s smile. I’m so proud and happy that my sons are involved with this great martial art, but fencing competitions are stressful for me. I have to pace myself: listen to my iPod (to drown out the piercing noise), pray and take deep breaths, and know when it’s time to take a break before heading back into the venue. Standing on concrete or sitting in folding chairs for 9-10 hours a day, manning the camera, does no favors for my neck and shoulders. (Refer to #7.) So when the car didn’t start on Day 4, as we were primed to outrun the snowstorm all the way to South Carolina, I felt my last bit of well-being slipping away.

I knew that God was providing for us and protecting us: two of the things He steadily and faithfully does for His children every single day. I could see it! Still, I felt like I was going to lose it at any moment: I was tense, panicky, claustrophobic, exhausted.

Even in the midst of the emotional and physical stress, however, I saw God’s smile everywhere. The same kind of smile you have when you give something to your children that you know will make them smile – and so you smile, too. He gives good gifts to His children, and He delights to do so.

We were able to book the same hotel, and it never lost power in the storm. Our rental car proved reliable on the snowy streets. With every restaurant closed for the storm, we found rotisserie chicken and hummus and pita (my favorite!) for dinner at Wal-Mart (do Wal-Marts ever close?). No-one broke into our broken-down car as we waited overnight for a tow. We found a diner with a great menu and waitstaff – one of whom even paid for my hot fudge sundae (when she saw my sons’ long arms reaching for it against my protests!). Discounts and mercy at the hotel and garage made the bills a hair less staggering. Having every meal together was a gift: our routine is so busy that we only have dinners together 2-3 nights a week right now. Even though the garage received the replacement part later than expected, they still were able to complete the repair in time for us to avoid one more night’s stay in Richmond. The boys’ homeschool co-op was cancelled, so they didn’t have to miss yet another day’s classes. The roads on the drive home (and – yes – I was still anxious about the car failing again in the frigid temps, or black ice on the roads) were dry; the only ice we encountered was on our driveway, which we had anticipated. We hauled our luggage up the iced-over driveway at 1 am in 10-degree weather, without falling or encountering scary creatures (coyotes, wolves, and possums, oh my!).  

Swirling emotions and physical tension notwithstanding, I saw the goodness and faithfulness of God in Richmond. I can hold fast to His truth and promises, to the reality of how good and present He is, even when my feelings are not lining up with the facts. Yes, we were stranded in a hotel in a snowstorm - but God never once left me stranded. He is utterly trustworthy – even when my emotions are anything but. 

(Disclaimers: I intend no disrespect toward Guy Fieri, Giada or Food Network. Nor toward indigents looking for a place of rest in subzero temperatures; in fact, if I'd been in a different frame of mind, I may have thought to ask the barista what was available in that area for homeless people wanting to escape the frigid storm.)

At Just the Right Time

The story is so familiar: Jesus, God with us, born to a young girl, who had her first baby in an animal stall, because the local inns were all full.

He grew up in Nazareth, of Galilee, a backwater town with a less than lofty reputation.

He lived in a time where the locals were occupied by powerful Rome, under a ruler who was know for being power-hungry, and paranoid.

He entered into his active ministry of proclaiming the gospel at age 30, without the communications advantages we have today: mass media, public relations people, the Internet – to spread his life-giving message. Instead, he walked from town to town, and spoke to those who chose to listen (and to many who didn’t).

I’ve often marveled that God would choose that time and that way to send His Son. Would it have seemed like the right time to you?

But God makes it clear that His timing for Jesus’ birth and life is perfect: when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. (Galatians 4:4-5)

What about the timing of his death? After a mere three years of earthly ministry, He is sentenced to death. What might He have done with, say, 10 years on earth? Or 20?! His closest disciples certainly didn’t seem to have grasped the heart of his teaching; they appear weak-willed, lacking the fortitude to persevere once He is arrested.

And the particulars of His death: grotesque, shameful, excruciating, casting aspersion on everything He’d ever taught or done. How could God die? And such a cursed death?

But God makes it clear that His timing and manner for Jesus’ death is perfect:

Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree” (Galatians 3:13)

For when we were still without strength, at just the right time, Christ died for the ungodly. . . But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:6, 8)

When we measure these events – or the events in our own lives – using our own perspective as a measuring stick, we miss vital information and insight. We can’t see what God sees. We don’t know what He knows. We imagine His kingdom coming in ways that are sensible, measurable, comprehensible; what He does looks crazy. The timing, the setting, the plotline: we would surely write the story differently.

But isn’t that the point? We aren’t writing the story. God is. His timing is intentional; His methods are flawless; His purposes are perfect, to reveal who He is and accomplish what He intends.

His kingdom is coming; His loving purposes in the lives of His people are being fulfilled. Even when we don’t understand the setting, the timing, the events. Even when the rising action confuses us, when the conflict appears too great and without resolution; when the conclusion evades our common sense reasoning.

God sent His Son into the world at just the right time! And, in God’s perfect timing, Jesus died for us, the ungodly, in order to redeem us from under the law, that we would be reborn as God’s very own children.

Trust the Lord with all your heart
And lean not on your own understanding.
In all your ways, recognize Him
and He will direct your paths.

Proverbs 3:5-6

His Coming

The true light, who gives light to everyone, [has come] into the world. . . The Word of God became human flesh and took up residence in our midst. We observed His glory, the glory as the One and Only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.   

John 1:9 & 14

This morning wasn’t the first time we’ve invited Sherry and her girls to church with us. She has seemed nervous yet eager to join us. Always, at the last minute, she has wriggled out, fretting about her children’s shoes not being nice enough (she says) -- more likely fretting about being out of place, different, not-good-enough (she probably feels).

It’s hard to enter a new place, an unfamiliar context. You feel exposed. Uncertain. On guard. Even in a church where many will welcome you. Where the grace of God for needy people is preached. Where we sing to celebrate God’s goodness and mercy to us in Christ.

At Christmastime, more than ever, we are praying that she will come. Because we know that Jesus has already come. For her.

He has come to us, so that we may come to Him.    

God has held out His flesh-and-bones hand through Jesus, that we might place our hand in His.

. . .

We smile at the mental image of shepherds lifting tattered robes from ankles, coming quickly to the barn, wide-eyed, after a skyfull of angelic beings rocked their world.

We marvel that learned men travelled for months, maybe years, in search of the King that they discovered in the stars.

We love hearing people tell their stories of coming to Christ in faith.

But first, He came to us: an unassuming invitation wrapped in Jewish flesh, a glimpse of God that made Him real to us. The distance He travelled boggles the mind, making Dr Who’s adventures in the TARDIS look like a brief stroll in an itty-bitty park. Across the universe that Christ Himself created, all the way into the womb of a young girl in Galilee, He took his first human breath in a stable, beneath the night sky that He had formed.

From the beginning, His plan, with the Father and the Spirit, was to come to us, for us. To meet us in a way that would make sense to us. To speak our language and paint word pictures that we could understand. To touch us, and be touched by us. To live in “our” world for a brief while, to share our earthly everyday experiences. To be fully human, even as He has always been and always will be God.

This is how far He has come.

This is how close He has come.

To you. For you.

. . .

If Christmastime is a bittersweet time for you, shadowed in sadness or grief or regret, I bring you good news of great joy:

Jesus, “God with us,” has come! He has come to you and for you. He is as near to you as your breath, your next thought, your hand reaching for His open, outstretched hand.

Arise, shine, for your light has come,
    and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.…
And nations shall come to your light,
    and kings to the brightness of your rising.   

Isaiah 60:1 & 3