The Light of The World

This weekend, while camping with our grandson, we went on a couple of hikes. He has a cute 'hungry caterpillar lamp that I bought him for Christmas, but he wanted a flashlight of course.

“Don't look at the light!” “No! Don't shine it in my eyes!” “Make it go on the ground so we can see where we are going.” “Don't shine it in people's faces -they can't see when you do that; it makes them unhappy.” “The trees and clouds don't need it.” “Shine it on the road so we can see where we are going!” “You're blinding me, buddy.”

In the past few days, I've seen that experience replicated in the spiritual realm. We are the 'light of the world.' “Let your light shine, therefore, in front of people so that they can see the good deeds you do and give Glory to God your Father.”

The guy holding the flashlight in a group who are walking in the dark must be conscious of not only his own need and opinion, but of the others with him who need the light as well. Often we shine it anywhere but on the path. Sometimes we blind people and actually make them stumble. Sometimes we blind ourselves with the light and we can't see anything for awhile -not the path, not the people who need light. Sometimes we just annoy others and make them turn further from our way. Sometimes we consider ourselves tour guides instead of servants helping people to see the way.

I recall another campout when we were camped a bit further down the road from the restrooms. I was headed there in the dark but I couldn't use my flashlight because I was carrying trash to the dumpster. A guy I didn't know at all came along side with a flashlight and lit my way. Then he offered to wait and help me back to my site. I assured him that I had the return trip covered and thanked him for his kindness. As he turned away, I also thanked my God for sending someone to help.

Those of us who know the grace of God are the light. We just are the light. We don't have to worry that we'll be turned off and set on a shelf. But we must not take our ability as our own. The one who made us the light knows where, when and how to use that so that people can see and glorify God for our influence.

The Season of My Joy -Sukkot 2017 Summary

Last year was the first time I had any direct contact with Sukkot or Feast of Tabernacles (Season of Our Joy). I was planning to camp for the whole week before our church camp out and learned that it was the week of Sukkot. I didn't really have much time for research, but I have a smart phone and decided that I would spend the week investigating and learning more about Sukkot.

To that time, I knew of it only from the writings in Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. We got there a little before sundown on Monday and put our pvc and plastic over the picnic table. Our plan was to not erect the 'kitchen' tent until we moved into our 'group camping' spot on Thursday since it would just be the two of us and we had to move camp half way through. While cooking our supper a little after dark, we began hearing very boisterous singing and celebrating. It was a fairly large group camping close by who were celebrating Sukkot.

I researched online and visited with the people who were there to celebrate for the rest of the week. It was an awesome revelation.

My plastic cover became my sukkah and we roasted supper over a fire each night and gave thanks and sang. We tied together a lulav and boxed the etrog and presented them daily. We searched for ways to give to others and restricted complaint from our lips. The end of our camping time came during day 8. I knew the Messianic group would stay through Tuesday, and I learned about 8^th day, but we had to go home. I vowed to celebrate again this year and began making plans.

My plans for this year changed. I would not be camping. Also, because of responsibilities, I could not accomplish all facets of the observance. I studied, amassed a file of prayers, readings, and blessings for the week and determined to do the best I could. Then God took over.

I started with a bit of difficulty getting a suitable sukkah (which is the singular of Sukkot). I abandoned my first attempt and used the pvc and plastic from last year's effort. I constructed a pipe horn for call to worship and gathered my tree specie for the lulav. I bought a fruit to serve as the etrog (heart) though I couldn't find the fruit specifically mentioned. I thought I had a decorated box that it would fit in, but it didn't fit, yet I found a perfect fit in a large plastic egg from my studio. I cleaned it well, found a couple of doilies and felt good about the presentation. I blessed my little sukkah on Wednesday night when I got home.

I started to print out the scripture and such for the first morning during which I was blessing a friend with breakfast under the sukkah. The Spirit within said “Don't. I'll lead you into the spirit of the festival.” Surprisingly I obeyed, and though I stumbled and fumbled, I made it through call to worship and the presentation of the etrog and lulav and a blessed breakfast with reading of praise (Psalm 92). That night I roasted my food over a fire and celebrated as I never have. It was the beginning of an amazing week of God's blessing and closeness. And so coming up to day 7, I researched how to close my sukkah.

Day 7 was an emotional day. I had come so far in my journey of one week and it would end at sundown. I had the feast for the 8^th day ready for the fire and the coals were ready by mid afternoon. I cooked, prepared the table under the pergola, and at sundown, crossed the bridge and entered my little sukkah for the last time. It was fitting that it was solitary -just me and the Father in the closing of my sukkah. The horn was sounded, the blessing spoken, the prayer for the next year's success was given. Thanksgiving for being led through the journey was offered. I carried my items pipehorn, unwrapped bouquet and fruit, to the pergola, extinguished the lamps in the sukkah and relit them at the table of our feast. And it was an awesome feast cooked over fire.

I didn't reenter the upper deck until this morning. I wasn't sure how it would feel taking it all down. I didn't really feel anything. It was my observation deck. The Spirit was in me and with me, but no longer stronger in the sukkah than elsewhere. No need to laugh or cry or even sing. It was a totally unexpected task! My morning time with the Father was just that. My supper on the deck was good and sharing with my man and my black doggie was sweet. Life is as it was. Yet there is a part of me that hopes I will never totally be as I was before Sukkot 2017.

Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine

I don't know why the connection came, but memories this morning brought to mind an event in my education at ATU; here it is.

I brought home a large lump of clay one weekend because I had the desire to make something specific and didn't want to wait until my next clay class to begin it and I still had much to accomplish for the class. Throughout the weekend I worked on the piece. I named it 'the ice dancer.' It was very simplistic, minimalistic, and modern; I was pleased.
I wrapped the finished piece carefully so that it could make the trip back on Monday and carried it carefully into the clay area at the college. I unpacked it with pride and with great care started toward the drying racks, piece in my hand. Without warning it disintegrated. It didn't just break, it literally disintegrated!

I let out an agonizing wail that I've heard many times since from students working on clay projects, most frequently the wheel. From the second floor of the building I heard my instructor's voice call down “It's only clay, Donna.”
I yelled back up at him in agony, “but it was my clay.” and heard him reply somewhat softly “maybe not.”

This memory brought a thought about a scene from Finding Nemo where the sea gulls are chasing the fish as the pelican tries to fend them off. They are crying “mine, mine, mine, mine, mine” as they fight to catch the fish. As the fish flop into the sea, a lone sea gull lands and mournfully cries “mine.”

I see that my speech is often full of the word 'my.' I refer to possessions, ideas, abilities, and even people this way. And when something gets broken or lost, I wail in anguish. Many things have been broken in the last few years and I wail a lot. In reading my memories this morning I found myself saddened by a loss and saying “but it was my. . .” and hearing in my spirit “maybe not.”

I realize once more that all good gifts come from the Father and they are only ours to enjoy for a time. I shall strive to remember with joy and understand that the joy of today is temporary, but that there will be joy for tomorrow as well if I don't hold so tightly to today that I can't feel it.

The only things that last for ever are God's love and the grace of Jesus. The rest is temporal and gives joy for the day and the memory.

On Building According to Need.

“Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen” (Ephesians 4:29).
My niece posted this verse recently and looking at it again this morning, my mind was stirred. There was a time when I thought of unwholesome talk in a whole different way than I do now. It was the letter of the law. But this morning I considered the part that says "what is helpful for building up others according to their needs." It speaks of being a benefit to others in our speech. I have to admit that I have always used this verse more as a club than as a cane.
In myself, I am beginning to see negativism as very unwholesome. I know that's just where God is taking me and I don't mean it as a condemnation of anyone else. It may not be what God is concentrating on in any other person's life.  But I have had to realize that I am so not geared to building others up according to their need. First, I have to take time to know the need. We make so many assumptions, but do we know the need of the heart and spirit? For that, we must spend time with the maker of the heart and spirit. 
I know many who are, and I have been, personally, guilty of abrasive, destructive words in the name of “helping” others toward godly living. But in scripture, I see that that's really the job of the Holy Spirit. Sometimes he does lay a word of correction in our spirit, but it will always concentrate on grace and redemption. We  should not fire random words of tough love. That is as unwholesome as cursing and filthy speech.

Often I speak “in love” what is important to me, my opinion or my latest revelation. Sometimes I should. Sometimes that's not what others need. I am simply satisfying my own need. How do I know the difference if I'm not in tune with the Holy Spirit, who knows and understands all needs of all mankind?

Jesus taught us to love others as we love ourselves. The world, and sometimes the church, is teaching us to love ourselves so we know how to love others. I'm beginning to feel that this is just the other side of the same selfish coin. It is the world's coin. In spite of esteem issues and self pressure, we know how to love ourselves. And if we truly do not, the remedy lies in looking at the love of God through Christ, not trying to increase our love toward ourselves. We will learn more from acknowledging how much he loves us than by concentrating on self love. I do believe we are unfit for true service until we recognize his love. Recognizing how much he forgives us is more important than learning to forgive ourselves. Becoming egocentric Christians for the sake of benevolence is a sad testimony to God's love and grace, just as greedy grasping of earthly things is a sad testimony to the abundance of God's provision.
I can show benevolence to other people without the love of God in my heart and it really doesn't accomplish anything for me or them. But if I will look at the love and grace Christ has for me, I will love him, according to his own words. In that stance, because he then is in me loving the world, the issues are moot.
So perhaps any inability to concentrate our words on other people's needs to be built up will be best remedied by bringing our focus back on what Jesus did for us so that we may know how to really love the world. "Looking to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith." I think that will take care of most of the rest of the problems. 

A Message from Myself to Myself on Fear

I found the following post on another site.  Again, it is a Message to Myself from Myself reminding me of things I should not forget.  My life has been blessed in so many ways.

As an addition to the post, I will say that the grace God has shown me is healing my body.  Rheumatoid arthritis is no longer my silent partner.  I still struggle at times with weakness and pain, but who doesn't?  I still get splotches on my skin and bruise and bleed easily, but life is good and I am not overcome by disease. I am still conscious of the need for wisdom and personal discipline in this life.

So I publish this reminder of grace and truth that God has brought through and is bringing through my life by the gift of his Son.

Fear

DONNAFAYE WOODALL·TUESDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2016

I do not fear heaven.

I do not fear death, because I trust the promise of heaven.

I do not fear onliness because my God is always with me and his love surrounds me.

I have lived with success and failure. I have lived with honor and disgrace. I have lived with appreciation and with rejection.

I have eaten steak and cordon bleu and I have eaten rice and potatoes. It’s just food either way and when it’s gone, it’s gone.

I have worn fancy clothing and precious stones and I have worn cheap earrings and clearance rack clothing. I’ve driven new cars and I’ve driven old clunkers that barely got me from one place to another. None of that made me more or less of a person or dulled the flame inside.

This is not to say that I cannot be brought low. I had a car wreck that stole more than I could imagine from me and a God who gave back more than I would have ever thought. I’ve looked death and disability in the eye and reacted as humans react and yet was loved and delivered.

I’ve had my greatest dream crushed more than once –and once by my own doing. I have been degraded and deceived. And through it I lived.

5 years ago, I was given news about my health that I would not accept –again. Since before that revelation until now, I have lived with rheumatoid arthritis. I recall a time when I used to think it was a joke. But aside from the pain and swelling that is disabling if allowed to progress, when I get an infection, it touches my whole body. Along with the attack that is waged on my body, the lack of desire to keep doing it one more time becomes the greater enemy.

I believe in divine healing. As yet, divine healing has not come to this disease. When diagnosed, I chose not to take the medications they prescribed and opted for a total change in diet and a life of discipline. God has been good to me through that.

Yesterday I was ill, brought on by careless neglect, just a slight kidney infection. It would have been a small thing at one time but not so when it is governed by my silent partner. I had to fight just to walk upright. I was achy and distracted by pain most of the day. I went from task to task just to get through the hours until my efforts could rectify the damage I had done to myself. The relief was slow coming.

Tonight my face and arms were hot and bumpy with the red places that follow any strong internal distress. I doctored them with my herbal remedy before laying down. Each day and year I stand closer to heaven, my final destination. That does not discourage me.

I do have fears. I will tell you of them. I fear living beyond my usefulness. I fear living past my final sunrise or last creative venture. I fear losing my freedom to decide when to rise and what to eat. I fear losing the ability to laugh and see the humor in things around me. I fear losing the right to give to others or to teach a lesson or to lead a craft. I fear not being allowed to live in my own space, eat my own cooking and listen to music that feeds my soul and spirit.

I am not a poor soul because I am sick or because I may be misunderstood when I am sick. I am only poor when I do not trust God’s best for my present and my future. I will never be perfect by the human eye’s standard but I am perfect in the eyes of my Father because of the work of his Son completed in whole on the cross. He rose to give me ‘new.’

Should my greatest fears become reality, it is trust that will bring me through it to the other side. And should my greatest hope be realized, it is trust that will bring me through it with a right heart and mind.

1 Peter 1:6 In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

Hebrews 12:10 God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.

The chair: From theoretical to real

I've heard about God all my life. I've believed in God as long as I remember. I accepted the gift of salvation and became God's child in 1967. God filled me to overflowing with his Holiness (Spirit) in 1969. God has been there changing and redeeming my life though every up and down. I hear him speak often-mostly within the confines of intellect and spirit, but a few times with audible sound. I've received answers to many of my questions and some of my prayers.

In 2002 I asked God to help me know that I was in his plan. My life had taken a lot of turns and spills and so many things were changing fast. I felt I could only survive, let alone succeed, if I knew I was on His path. He specifically instructed me to pare down my activities and only proceed when I heard his command. I tried to follow and found it more difficult than I would have imagined. God's love constantly reined me in and realigned me over the next few years.

In 2007 I was faced with a daunting task and I prayed often with deep insecurities. I'd always been such a confident person that this was new ground for me. I prayed for confirmation over and over and then one night as I was on my face crying and praying to know what part was me and what part was God lest I err badly, He broke in and ask “Who are you talking to?” I almost felt insulted. I was trying so hard to just 'get it right' and for that I needed him so much. But that conversation was a turning point in my spiritual thinking. I knew His voice. I knew his word. I knew his character -though not as well as I should have for the length of time I'd been walking with him.

The next few years were as chaotic and taxing as I had feared. God did not leave us orphans. He was there consistently during those sometimes dark and often confusing days. Not all days were dark and confused. He was present in every event of that event.

4 or 5 years ago, I asked God to reveal himself to me, to let me truly know him. I wanted to be a friend of God; I wanted, as best a earthing can, to understand Him (purpose, desire, love, holiness, mystery). I began studying with a different intent and technique. I am still earthling. I am still flawed. But I am amazed at the change in my heart and mind toward scripture, toward others, toward God.

I have purposely left out examples because I wanted to stay on course and yet I felt some background was necessary for what I really want to say. My finite mind cannot truly envelope an infinite God and yet I see in scripture and experience that he desires that I know him.

James 2: 22 . . . his faith reached its maturity when he expressed his faith through obedience. 23 And the Scripture was fulfilled which says, “Abraham believed God,

and this faith was credited to him by God as righteous conformity to His will,” and he

was called the friend of God. (Amp)

We are raised with many opinions of God. Often people feel so strongly about their opinions that the growth of the relationship is stunted because they limit God to a set of humanly contrived fences. One day I realized that God does not fit my fenced yard nor has he any desire to live there. Yet he invites me to come where he is.

I've changed my view of death, sickness, storms, joy, finance, love, all in the last 5 years. One day I told God that I wanted to know him so well that I knew his favorite color and flower and season. I wanted to know what he likes for breakfast. Well of course I was not being precise with that statement. I'm not an idiot. But I really do want to know God as a friend the way John did, and Abraham, and David, and Mary.

Around the first of this year, God began waking me very early. I would pray about whatever came to mind and, being wide awake before house noises are appreciated, began watching Daystar, especially listening to a couple of preachers that God has used to solve some long standing issues in my spirit and heart. But one morning, I dozed off and woke to a speaker I wasn't familiar with. I started to turn the TV off and heard the voice in my spirit say 'listen.' The concept being discussed was that of keeping a chair empty in the home to bring God constantly into remembrance. The man had some funny stories and some tear-jerkers and was marketing a book he'd written about the effect it had on his family and visitors to his home. Normally a program like that would garner a little positive reaction and be forgotten, but not when the Holy Spirit is using it to speak specifically to my own need.

When I was getting ready for that day's personal time in my sunroom, I cleared off the arm table and set the chairs so that they were somewhat facing. To reduce my distraction, I chose the chair that faces toward the dining room and away from the yard and street. I sat down and said “Father, I know you are always with me, but often I am not conscious of your presence and so I tend to do my own thing even when I come to the Bible and prayer. I invite you to sit with me as I study and enlighten my spirit and mind as I read and direct my thoughts and understanding as I pray.”

The passage I was studying presented me with some personal conflict and though I often pray about those things, I just asked God -imagined in the other chair- to help my understanding and bring peace to my spirit. As I read, other unclear passages were enlightened or strengthened. By the end of the time, I was amazed and my spirit was refreshed. I felt I had spent time with God because I was recognizing his presence in every thought and verse. My prayer time felt fresh and empowered. I invited God to carry on the conversation as I prepared to teach in my studio. The original issue had not been addressed, but I felt at peace.

Day by day I acknowledged his presence in the freshly cleaned and ordered chair. Day by day my faith in his presence was increased and sharpened. Then one day, God brought my original question to mind as I was looking into another scripture. My heart and spirit were opened. My mind assented to new understanding. I said aloud “Wow! You did answer, but I had to get there.” Over time, I've gotten used to that and when I ask about something difficult or casual, I've learned to expect an answer, if not today, one day when I've reached the right place for receiving it.

The chair remains empty in the morning quiet time. If someone has thrown something there, I pick it up and dust the chair off. If something has been spilled on the chair, I clean it off and prepare it before I sit down.

I don't think God needs a place to sit down, but I need to envision him there in full presence, caring about what I say and feel, knowing my limits and giving me the freedom to walk out the gate with him to a new understanding. And when I listen, I expect to hear him speak. Jesus said “I no longer call you servants. I call you friends.” I'm learning to learn and loving it.

A Totally Free Society?

You cannot force people to do the right thing in a free Society. You can ask them to do the right thing. You can pray they will do the right thing. You can scold them for not doing the right thing. You can reward them for doing the right thing. But you cannot force people to do the right thing in a free Society.

We must be willing to ask ourselves if we want a free Society. If we do, we must be willing to allow others free choice even if it means bad choices. That is the sadness of a free Society. Laws are made to ensure the one man's bad choice does not ruin the life of other men or of the society itself. Punishment ensues to protect the validity of the law and we are governed. When the law is allowed to be disrespected it becomes invalid.

I heard a person say once "Your freedom ends where my yard begins." In a perfect Society it would be so. In a totally free Society it would not.

Grace gives people the right to do the right thing based on the love and provision of Christ. However it does not force them to accept the love and provision of Christ. Grace extended includes forgiveness as well as the right to move on from a bad choice, sometimes a hurtful choice. He forgives us and we forgive others. Then we start living as the Spirit directs us.

But first we must learn to hear the Spirit speak. For that we must stop listening to all other voices for a time. That is the hard part. Few people will put forth the effort in this noisy, crowded, entertainment driven world. And so we become subject to the noise of opinion.

The opinions of man get clouded and confused. And we have to ask ourselves again "What is freedom?" Do we want a truly free Society populated by people who disagree with everything that is important in our mind and heart. What if the laws that are made by this Society are against everything I believe in?

Once more we are directed to Grace and forgiveness and the need for restoration and for that we need the guidance of the Spirit. Where does it end? Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control can break no law. That is not something you do, that is the result of being Spirit led. But when that becomes you, don't expect the world to applaud and respect you. The world cannot understand that behavior. And that is where we become truly free regardless of the society we inhabit.

A Message from Myself to Myself

Two years ago, I wrote a post to another social page.  I ran into it today and it said all the things that were stuck in my heart and head.  So I brought it here and shall share it elsewhere.  My mother's birthday party was good.  Many things I forgot to do.  Many things I discarded for time.  My age and humanity were apparent.  But it was good.  I shall self-deprecate elsewhere in another timeslot.

What a huge pile of memories I unearthed looking for pictures of my mom! Lots of bunnies to chase within those files and I was chased out by a few bears also. I wanted to post pictures that I would have gotten in big trouble for and I cried over long past pain. It's all still there: love, pain, hurt, joy, laughter, tears, ignorance and pride- all waiting to tell its long past story as my father used to at family gatherings after we'd all had too much to eat. 
Frankly, I can see good progress in many things over the past decades and I can see somethings that remain nagging in the shadows. The truth of my past is the truth of my past, yet I'm not as easily angered by injustice because I realize the injustice in us all. I am not as embarrassed by my lack, because it is my story. I'm not as appalled by the 'sins' of others because though I still believe sin is sin, I see the bigger story and I see the pain of humanity much clearer. -And I understand that only God can fix sin and therefore only God can judge sin. However, I want more than ever to rid myself of its presence and its effect.
I can see some places where things began to go dreadfully wrong, but I still don't understand why. If I try too hard to understand it now, I find myself trapped in a bad attitude cycle that goes nowhere and gives no answers. It's best to leave some things alone, to walk from that room and quietly close the door.
I also saw some of my family in a new light -in a good way. I realized that my mom was really good at fun. She enjoyed it without self-conscious inhibitions and yet it was such good fun. I plan to post a blog on that bunny trail soon. I was not good at fun. Oh how I wished to be, but I was not. I'm a serious person who wants to be fun.
I found that an old friend -a very good friend whom I lost contact with- died a couple of decades ago in a different part of the world. I tried to find out how he died, but I could not. It made me sad for I've always envisioned him off somewhere with a load of grandkids following him about. I can find no indication that he ever married or had children. I cried as I closed that door of research. And yet I found myself hoping that someone else had his exact name and exact birthdate and that he is somewhere loving his life, his wife and a passel of giggling grandchildren.
This September month is full of happy and sad memories. I hope I can give honor to the sad ones without losing the joyous ones. It is not that I would forget the sad. I could not if I wanted to, and yet I don't wish to diminish the happy, amazing wonderful things that came into my life through the door we call September.
I hope your joy and strength are equal to your days. Be blessed.

Give Me Truth!

Two teenagers assaulted the airwaves in my space at camp with a noisy, somewhat amiable but very intense argument. They were both talking quickly and loudly and my first thought was “Don't you guys have anything better to do with my free time than this?”

The debate went on and increased in volume until the guy cried out “Miz Woodall tell her “. . . . .” I was formulating an answer based on my need to get back to my agenda when the Spirit reminded me of an occasion years before when I was teaching in a public High School and so I gave in, held up my hand and said “Whoah! Tell me some truth!”

He replied “She said . . . . . . . . . . . . . and she even accused me of not being a Christian.” The girl started in. I winked at her and held up my hand.

“But I want to hear truth. Lay some truth on me, bro.”

He slowed down and began repeating the argument only slightly less loud and intense than before. I spoke again; “But those are only the facts. I want you to tell me some truth.”

He looked stumped almost insulted. “She did. She said I wasn't a Christian.”

“Tell me truth?”

“I am,” he stated with a defensive look at her.

“So give me truth.” I insisted.

After a few more interchanges, the young man told about putting his faith in Jesus to save him. It had happened on those very grounds a couple years earlier. “And?”

“Well Jesus changed my whole life.” “And?” “NOBODY has a right to say I'm not a Christian.” “Because?” “Because my faith is in Jesus.”

“Does what another person have to say change that at all?”

“No.”

“If she doesn't see things like you do, does it change that day or this?”

“No!”

“So your relationship to Jesus is based on . . .?”

The young man presented a very good rendition of the 'good news of the gospel'. He was no longer yelling. She was quiet and beginning to smile and nod as he spoke.

When he finished I turned to her. “Lay some truth on me, girlfriend.”

She told me about being saved and how it affected so many things in her life. He listened respectfully and nodded as she spoke.

The conflict was resolved in going back to the beginnings, by concentrating on what grace did for each. As far as I know we didn't address the original argument at all, but it seemed not to matter as they walked away to join other young people in a creative piece of fun.

I get pretty sidetracked by the words and actions of other Christians. When I pick it apart, I'm convinced it just isn't right behavior in a body that should be redeemed by and for Christ: you know hypocrisy, self-righteousness, snobbery, bickering, fault finding. I know some of you are rolling your eyes and some are saying “Right on!” and some may even be saying “Pull the beam out of your own eye, Donna.”

While preparing to go to 'church', I got in that mind frame. God told me to stop and sit down. He had questions for me to answer. I had arguments, -people's opinions, judgment, and misunderstanding, don't forsake the assembling, my own love for good worship and teaching, but in the end I opted to spend time listening to God.

I started out reading my Bible where I had been reading yesterday. Then I wrote down things that were bothering me and keeping me agitated of late. My mind played out offenses; I knew they were just facts. God said “Give me some truth, Donna.”

My standing with God doesn't depend on what you think or what you've done. My relationship to the Father doesn't even depend on what I've done or thought. It depends solely on the grace of God offered freely to one who said “Yes” to the call of God based on the righteousness and sacrifice of Jesus.

By the same token, my opinion of you doesn't change your relationship to the Father. I may complain and fume at what you've done or said, but God just stands by and says “Give me some truth.” If your answer includes faith in the sacrifice of Jesus, that's good enough.

I'm not saying there are no problems or that the body of Christ has no responsibility to behave itself. But I'm becoming convinced that the further we wander from the grace of God and the love of Christ, the less effective we become and the more problems we exhibit. God has been teaching me. I'm learning -sometimes slowly.

Grace, peace, blessing. 

You're Beautiful

I see Your face in every sunrise

The colors of the morning are inside Your eyes

The world awakens in the light of the day

I look up to the sky and say,

'You're beautiful'

(Written by Phil Wickham)

I woke early this morning, did all the stumble in morning stuff and put my phone on the charger as it was at 6%. I started to sit down and rest until my alarm went off, but though I had worked until about midnight 30, I wasn't really tired or sleepy at 5:15. So I did some picking up and a bit of cleaning -only a bit- in the sunroom before I saw the early maroon and orange gracing the eastern horizon.

Dawn is my favorite!- not the dish soap, the time of day. My buddy was ready to go out with me into the early twilight of the pre-dawn. I laughed at his antics as it's been some time since we've been out together at the birth of day. He's a pup at dawn, without restraint or reason, just a joyful pup. Perhaps he caught it from his owner. The air was sweet and light. Slight breezes turned off and on and little wisps of cloud played with the horizon and the moon which was still bright.

Watching the eastern horizon develop, I busied myself cutting wisteria tendrils and picking up the deck. I dispersed what rainwater was still around to the flowers and herbs there. A lone mocking bird cried to the coming sun. The other birds were probably saying “Hey, friend, keep it down. Nobody should be that loud before the sun gets up.” But not me. I relished his song as I relished the increasing color in the east. Normally I have a camera in hand, or my phone, and I busy myself documenting the event. But today, my hands and mind sought other business. I left those behind on purpose today. I wanted to see with the heart instead. I wanted to experience the moment instead of recording it.

I spied a tube of bubbles left on the deck the last time my grandson was there and picked it up with the abandon and joy of a child. As I blew the first string of bubbles from the wand, the breeze caught them and lifted them high above the yard below and into the trees. A few made it all the way past the trees until they were barely visible before they dried out enough to pop without touching anything. I walked up to the observation deck and blew the bubbles off the bridge and deck. The colors were amazing as the dawn reflected in the floating soap. The light of the moon mixed through a couple of larger ones. It was exhilarating. I began experimenting.

The warm air coming off the pool held the larger bubbles in suspension for a moment or two. It actually lifted some of the smaller ones back skyward until they floated away into the lower yard. When they reached the pool water, instead of breaking, they actually bounced across the surface a few times before they popped. I was fascinated. The trees and Arvest tower reflected in their swirling color and I could sometimes even see my own form and face.

I climbed to the top of the lighthouse thinking I could watch them drift across the hill and downward. The dynamics were different there, however and the bulk of them floated into the trees and broke fairly quickly. But I stood there surveying my little world with a nice breeze on my face. The color in the east was almost golden now.

I hurried back down to the pool deck to experience the play of the bubbles with the warmth of the water. I was a child calling out to my Father: “I see your face in every sunrise; the colors of the morning are within your eyes. . . . . . . Oh, you're beautiful.” Jesus said “Let the little children come to me.” and “Except you come like a little child comes. . . .” I felt that this morning. I believe the Father put the bubble wand in my hand and I think he enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed his this morning.

Saved Instead

When Katherine was not quite 3 years old, I gave birth to my 3^rd daughter. During the process, I lost a lot of blood and was quite unsteady on my feet for a time. Since I was not able to drive yet, the whole family went to my check-up a week after the birth and then to the Pharmacy for a prescription that I needed to strengthen me.

While in the store, my second daughter took her diaper off and her father grabbed her up and flew out the door and across the street to the car parked on the other side. Before the door closed, Katherine got through it and started after her father. I was carrying a new born (long before car seats) and unsteady, but I rushed as quickly as I could to the door and cried out to my small daughter to “Stop!” “Come back!” “Come back!”

As I approached the sidewalk, I saw the eighteen wheeler coming down the main street of the small town. There were no stop lights in that town and it was moving quite quickly toward my small child. Frantically I screamed “Come back here now!” Something in the tone of my voice caused her to respond against her own will to catch up with her daddy and sister. She turned and took one small step before the truck bumper hit her and threw her into the sidewalk at my feet.

Passers by hailed a police car and the officer put my bleeding child with a baby blanket on her head into his cruiser and I got in and we drove back to the hospital/clinic where she was rushed into a clean sterile room. She held onto me and I tried to comfort her.

A nurse had taken my baby and I followed the gurney with my little treasure into a room where the doctor started working with her immediately. In response to her pleading, I promised I would stay with her. She was so brave, so still. Other than that first cry when she was hit she had been quiet until the doctor began. He looked up and said “Are you okay?”

I told him I'd be fine. “Just take care of my little girl.”

He turned to the nurse and said, “She needs to go lay down.” I argued that I would be fine; Katherine began to wail. In the end, the nurse escorted me to a room with a bed and assured me that the doctor would take good care of my little one. Then she parked a nursery bed beside my bed and they laid my new born there close to me. The world went black and when I woke, the doctor came in and talked to me about the head injury.

As it was, I was in a good place and all three of us were well cared for. Katherine was doing fine. She had a concussion and several stitches up the back of her head. They would keep her there for observation. He assured me that someone big was looking out for us.

The police came in and informed me that the truck driver had been stopped on his way out of town. He didn't even know he'd hit her and was very shaken by the news. They asked a few simple questions and declared it an accident. The man's insurance would take care of the cost. They again told me how fortunate I was. If she had not turned and stepped back toward me, it would have been disastrous.

When they finally decided I was physically stable enough, they let me look in on my daughter before sending me and the rest of the family home. I walked in and touched her little face. Her eyes had blackened and her face had a few minor abrasions. I caught my breath at the sight. She peered at me through the injury and asked soflty “Mama, why did you hit me?” I was dumbfounded.

Of course, I corrected her understanding of what happened. She was fascinated by the fact that she had been hit by a truck and lived. I guess I had overplayed that as we lived around a lot of traffic.

It occurs to me that sometimes I cry to God about my pain and circumstance; I assume he has somehow dealt the blow. Yet it may just be that instead, he saved my life.

Precious

4 deaths! Four godly people each gone in a moment. I found it very frustrating. My belief is that God is the author of life, not death. So after brooding for a time, which is my sad human nature, I asked God straight out, “Why did we have to lose such faithful friends, such diligent servants with not even a chance to pray for them.”

God was not slow about answering from my stack of childhood memory verses. “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” Psalm 116:15

At first I did not accept that as an answer. But if there is one thing I've learned about God in the past 6 months -and 50 years, it is that God is never offended by the hard questions when asked by a seeking heart. The problem is, we sometimes don't even know the question, let alone the answer.

I read the whole Psalm that day. It reminds us of God's care and faithfulness toward his own, of his tenderness and care from the day we are conceived until the day of our death. It admits that we don't always recon him as tender and caring, but he loves us and is patient.

Another thought I had never entertained is that it is precious in his sight. God never loses sight of his beloved whether at birth, at rebirth, during trials of our faith, during growing pains, during death, God is always watching and caring. I recall going on outings in the mountains with my next door neighbors. They had a very large family and 'their mom' dressed them all in the same color and or print. She didn't have to look hard to see her brood and know if they were just fine or if attention was required. The Father has marked us as his own. He sees where we are and knows our predicament. He was neither surprised nor casual with the death of his servants.

Also I saw that God is not just watching indifferently at the progress and moments of our lives. Our birth, rebirth, trials, joys and death are all precious to him. They don't pass by haphazardly or unattended. He is waiting for us at each turn including death. Like earthly parents, he's there to share in the joy, the growth, the pain and passing from one reality to the next. He didn't miss my kindergarten graduation, my wedding, my father's death or the death of my friends. He will be with me when I step through the threshold into his full presence.

“I serve you as my mother did; you have freed me from my chains. I will sacrifice a thank offering and call on the name of the Lord.” My mother was an example to other believers as was my father. They trained me to behave myself and to consider what was done in the public eye as well as in private. Yet God goes further: he frees us from the chains. We are no longer chained to sin and guilt. We are not chained to fear and rejection. We are not chained to earthly thinking.

There are no chains in death for the believer. Because he sacrificed his Son, we are free to live life as his precious children. Our behavior and gratitude comes out of his goodness. He offers and we accept the cup of salvation for this moment on. Praise the LORD. He's a good, good father. It's who he is.

Walking With the Prodigal

I've been looking at the story Jesus told about the prodigal son in Luke 15:11-32 and several things occurred to me.

“There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them.

“Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living.”

I've heard many people talk about the disrespect it would take for the younger son to demand his part of the family business while his father was still living. Regardless whether that was an issue or not, it is obvious that the boy had no care or respect for his father. Also, the father granted his request, though he had no obligation to do so. Since according to the law, property could not be sold out of the clan and was only leased until Jubilee, the father no doubt gave him the worth of the land he would one day possess.

The son had no preparation to take his inheritance. He was suddenly wealthy. He got as far away from the father as he could. But he had no value for the estate as is shown by “squandering his wealth in wild living.”

After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

The son had no skill set with which to recover, especially in adverse conditions. It is obvious that his employer was shrewd and cruel. He wouldn't even let him have the hog's food. He did see his father as a fair and kind employer, yet there is no indication that he cared more for his father than he had when he left.

“When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’

I don't see that he ever missed or desired a relationship with his father. He saw going back to the father as a goal to get what he needed. He was hungry. He was doing something that he had considered dishonorable and repulsive from his birth, yet he had no satisfaction, he had no sustenance. He said to himself “the people in my father's house have food.” They had clean food. They had kosher food. He had no doubt that his father's estate was doing well.
I'm also realizing that the prodigal knew he had wasted his inheritance. He knew that his future had been changed by his own actions. He was not going home to an inheritance. He was going home to sustenance.

So he got up and went to his father.

He expected to be an outcast, a reject. No longer would he be the spoiled son of a rich father. In the story, the father actually confirmed that when he told his older son that everything he had was his; the older son owned everything except his father's compassion. He did not have the Father's heart.

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

“The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

“But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

Perhaps the brother saw the prodigal's selfish motive and that he was not different than when he left, but the love of the father had brought him back in the home any way. The younger son was not just brought into the home, but he was clothed in the best, he was given a signet ring-a seal of authority, and the father killed the ceremonial calf to throw a party for him. He was given the best of everything and renewed sonship without lifting a finger. The father didn't even allow the younger son to finish his rehearsed speech.

Legalism said “I have nothing to gain except sustenance”; mercy said “put an identifying robe and ring on the prodigal, for he is my son.” The prodigal left as a son by the father's wealth and by the father's decree, he returned as a son.

Returning as an employee may have been easier for the prodigal. Finding mercy that is so obviously mercy can be difficult for the proud, whether or not they are in a position of honor. I'd like to think that the prodigal had his pride stripped away in the hog farm. Yet he did not ask his father for anything but a job. He admitted his trespass against the father and against heaven, but he didn't plan repentance or a request for forgiveness into his speech. Maybe that's why the father stopped him.

“Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’

“The older brother became angry and refused to go in.
Justice says “He doesn't really deserve to be called your son.” Grace says “Put a ring and robe on the prodigal.” We can get so busy trying to do justly that we don't retain a love for mercy, but the Father does and if we're going to have his heart we have to allow him to reproduce mercy in us.
It's also possible that in concentrating on his brother's selfishness, that the other son became selfish and didn't want his brother taking anything that was his. The father was trying to teach his faithful son to give and forgive.

So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

The picture of this father begging his older son is almost more than I can endure. How many times has the Holy Spirit argued with my angry heart about forgiveness and mercy? More than I would like to consider. The disrespect that the 'faithful son' shows here is quite telling. This estate was his inheritance, yet he speaks as though he was a slave who, though obedient, was not compliant with the spirit or intention of the father. “You gave me nothing. You never allowed me to celebrate with my friends.” It appears the sons were not so very far apart in spirit. Yet obedience is obedience and the father was compassionate and merciful to both his sons.

“‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”

Though the inheritance had been spent, sonship was still in effect, and brotherhood should have been. The faithful son had nothing to fear from the returning prodigal. His obedience was honored, yet the father wanted to change his heart.

About Losses.

This has been a day when the events of the past month have crowded my life and brain. Any writing on it could be entitled “Necessary Losses”, but someone has already written that book and though I may agree with some of the premise, it's not my book.

The Sunday after camp my phone lost its connection to my cell service provider. In the restoration efforts, after a suggested back-up of all files, I lost most everything. None of that worked and the replacement took 2 weeks. I ordered a new phone even though the old was under a total replacement warrantee because doing without for 2 weeks didn't work for my business or my life. When the new phone came, it was a blank slate and I was totally frustrated. I didn't like the 'new and improved' very much, though it is quite a nice phone. In fact, I've replaced some of the new and improved with old programs that work more like I want them to. There are things that are quite good about the new phone. But I had lost all my journal material that wasn't glued to the internet and my computer already. I lost all the day planner stuff. I lost texts that I frequently referred to and I lost some contact information. I live on my phone. I felt blind sided. I'd had that phone over 2 years and it was the best device I've ever owned. It was my buddy. It had my prayer wall, my pictures, my journal. Some of it I got back; some I did not.

The end of April, my computer was doing a windows update when the power went out. HP backed me up before doing a total restore and I limped out of it with a positive, if somewhat frustrated mindset.

I didn't get my 'office' back. Works was a sorry excuse for 'Office' and I resorted to a program I had used years before when I lost 'Office'. It was a little different, but worked generally well and much better than works for any kind of graphic presentation. Who knew that HP and Microsoft don't play on the same field as Open Office?

Less than a week after losing and replacing my phone, my power went out during another windows update. HP backed me up again and did a total restore. I thought, “This is a pain, but I know how to do it.” What I didn't know was that I would lose all of the Open Office material in the back up and restore. 2 months of work-gone. Graphic files- gone. Current financial and student records- gone. Documents- gone. Everything I had accomplished in two months with Open Office was gone.

I've been incredibly busy since the time of that restore. I've been able to piece some of the records back together. I had posted some of the writings. I have copies of some of the recipes and I got some of them off the internet in the first place. This year's camp book is a total loss: weeks of work. But I still have last year's book and a physical copy of this year's book. I have a physical copy of a brochure I made for an organization I work with. Yet there are so many holes.

During the second camp I was hit with a personal and spiritual battle that I was not prepared to fight. I have since gotten that under the cross and extended forgiveness, yet it left me exhausted and feeling spiritually vulnerable. I am flesh. I am tied to this earth through my humanity as surely as I am tied to the cross through grace by faith. I thought I was strong- I was not. I thought I was above bitter anger- I was not. I thought I had learned keys that would keep me under the shadow of the almighty. I had to learn that my keys are only as good as my preparation for the day.

I've always skirted around or skimmed over the center part of David's story -you know, the Bathsheba/Uriah part. That also includes the Nathan part and the Amnon part and the Absalom part and all that stuff. I don't like loss and I don't like familial conflict. I don't like trying to understand any of that. Things should work differently -especially for God's own. Especially for those who have entered His shadow- those who trust, abide in him and learn to love him with all their heart, mind, soul and strength.  But God has slowed me down and broken my heart for Donna and David in these passages.

He knows I am dust. He understands my distraction and wandering and he still said “Come!” that day in April 1967. He still said “Be still and I will pass over and through you and you will be forever changed" in 1970. He still said “Receive my love without restraint" in 1974. He still said “I'm with you always and I will do what I have planned in your life regardless of your circumstance and weakness” in 1983. He still said “You have purpose yet to accomplish and much to learn” in 1996. He said “I will walk with you through the storm and on the waves” in 2000. He said “Follow me only and learn what I will teach you” in 2002. He said “I'm here and I will be here always” in 2006. He said “You will know me in the wind” in 2008.

Again and again as I have struggled to believe and trust, he has spoken to me. Again and again as I have lost my focus and my closeness to him, he has called me back and brought restoration. Lost things are found in Him. Lost ways are found in Him. He is my restorer, my savior, my rebuilder. He holds the future and the past in 'I am'. I lost things I had worked to create. He spoke 'Let there be . . .' and there it was. I've lost relationships to foolishness and human error. He said 'Donna! I'll be with you always, clear to the end of it all.' I've lost physical strength and ability. He said 'My strength is perfected in weakness.'

I'm still anxious when I come to the files and try to rework them from sketchy information and clouded memories. But God hasn't lost anything and I can still ask. I'm still discouraged when I see shattered relationships that seem to have no answer. But God is the restorer of breaks and the mender of hearts. I'm still overwhelmed by the swiftness of days and hours and the heavy toll they take on the spirit, body and mind. But he- the timeless one- spoke and time began. He turned back the clock for some and he elongated time for others.

He is my God, my strength, my covering. I can trust him with the losses whether they are necessary or will be restored.

Today I Choose

Last week I got slammed publicly. It was done in front of people who should have stepped in and supported me but they did not. In my late 60s, a time when I should be respected for good choices, for kind acts, for trying to encourage, help, and serve others, I was treated like a delinquent teenager who was defying rules that had never been spoken. 
For a week I have struggled with it. I don't need to name names or give specifics. Suffice it to say that it was a very unkind and inappropriate act. The problem with it is it's been done to other people I care about. It's been done to good people who gave as much or more than I have given and were as unprepared to deal with it as I was. And it left deep wounds behind. I have tried to encourage those people in the past and help them find grace in their time of need. So it hit me doubly strong and I could not get over it.
The injuries that make no sense are the hardest injuries to get past- like the car wreck I did not see coming. I had done nothing to cause it, nor could I prevent it, and yet I was left wounded and disabled. This act has left me paralyzed in the spirit and hampered in the flesh for a long busy week.
Today I came with another cry for help. That cry has come out many times in the past week, because I don't like being that person and I don't want bitterness to grab hold of my life. Yet this morning was a little different. In my memories on Facebook-imagine that, were several instances of grace and healing. And the words "I choose forgiveness and grace" jumped out at me.
There were also strong reminders that God is there in my failures, in my successes, in my dark times, in my happiness. He has been my God and will be tomorrow and the next day and the next day into eternity. This exists because Jesus said "it's finished" on the cross.
No person has the right to determine my relationship with God. No action has the right to separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Jesus is there regardless of what anyone else does. Forgiveness and grace are mine to choose as much as it was the choice of others to wound. What others do with their heart and words is between them and God.
I must choose forgiveness and grace to walk in mercy and joy. Before my God and any I have involved, today I choose grace. Today I choose mercy. Today I choose forgiveness.

From Heaven to Helpless Part 4: Loving God

Psalm 91: 14-16 Because he has set his love upon me, therefore I will deliver him; I will set him on high because he knows and understands my name. He has a personal knowledge of my mercy, love and kindness; he trusts and relies on me, knowing I will never forsake Him. No never!

He will call on me and I will answer him.

I will be with him in trouble;

I will deliver him and honor him;

with long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation. (Amplified)

The first commandment is "love your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength." If we get that one right I believe; we get the rest right.

God said “Because he as set his love upon me . . . . First I set my trust in him. Then I make him my permanent dwelling. Then I set my love on him like I'd tune in a channel or radio station and forget the rest exist at all. It is a conscious act of choosing to love God progressively more through time because we have forsaken all other loves.

A parent bird finds its young. The baby yells. The parent finds it and leads it to a place where it can be safe. I don't think it is so much that I must find God's shelter as that I must call and learn to love him. I have trouble with these two tasks.

First, I am so easily drawn aside to other loves. I want. And sometimes the wants destroy trust and affection for the Father. But it seems as I consciously choose him, it happens more quickly, though not with less human struggle. Perhaps one day the struggle will cease, but I doubt that. I think I recognize more quickly how much I do want the love of the relationship to stay strong and active. I don't think there is anything wrong with a Child of God having earthly possessions and I know all the cliches. But honestly, blessings become spiritual burdens sometimes, while Jesus reminds us that his yoke is easy and his burden is light. I start out thanking God for the stuff, people, job, and end up so busy I barely say “Hi!” in passing and my love starts pulling away. He will travel with me through the day of course, but we need dedicated one on one time to keep the love strong.

Sometimes it is pride in what I have or pride because of what I don't have that causes me to turn my gaze away and wander off. But I'm learning to see the signs. I've prayed for God to scream at me when I start pulling away. The memory of the close intimate time with my God draws me back to the center of his shadow. I just have to tune it in and set my love on him.

Second, I call to many things when I am in distress. I call up my own past, I call out to other people's sympathy and direction. I call my own will. And when I am exhausted, I call the father. This is not an effective way to live, but I have come up that way and renewing the mind is not a one time effort.

Another part of this is knowing and understanding God's name. He is 'I am that I am.' Anything that could possibly mean is wrapped up in God. He is beyond description or definition and yet he wants us to know him. He wants us to understand what his name implies and promises. How could we not trust or love him if we recognize all he is and brings to us? He promises to be there always through all things. He promises deliverance and honor. He promises satisfying longevity and then ultimate salvation. Frequently very elderly people don't have a very satisfying life. They lose mobility and strength. They lose friendships and value within the community and family. They lose purpose and ownership. I want to be that old person who gets around, who tries to sing, who smiles and laughs, who wakes up glad to be living each day. I believe this is a promise to those who set their love on the Father.

From Helpless to Heaven- Part 3 Living and Moving with God's Shadow

Psalm 91: 7-13 Then a thousand may fall at your side and ten thousand at your right hand but it shall not come near you. Only a spectator shall you be as you witness the reward of the wicked, inaccessible in the secret place of the most high. Because you made the Lord your dwelling and refuge, there shall no evil befall you, nor any plague or calamity come near your tent. For he will give his angels special charge over you, to accompany, defend and preserve you in all your ways of obedience and service. They shall bear you up on their hands lest you dash your foot against a stone; you shall tread upon the lion and adder and the young lion and the serpent you shall trample under foot.

The first 6 verses center on the believer's trust in God. I believe that trust-confident reliance on the nature, promises and attributes of God is how man attains relationship with God. Self efforts at righteousness fall desperately short of the requirement. The promises based on trust alone are amazing. I've seen the results of unabashed trust in my own life. I've also seen the results of pulling out and trusting my own judgment, desires and strength.

Recently I heard a sermon on the character of God: he is just -rigidly righteous- in all he does. He is love -lavishly affectionate and gracious to all he has created. Satan's tactic is to pit God's righteousness against his love and make him choose one above the other knowing that either choice would reduce him from being God.

But God devised a way in which justice can be satisfied by faith and he can justly show love to fallen man. Through his son's obedience and sacrifice, the righteous debt is paid for all who believe. Faith is counted for righteousness. Jesus is spoken of as the Lamb slain from the foundation of the earth.

God's love provided for man's fall before he created man. The sacrifice was made, though it would play out in human hours and years. It was a finished act and all it required of man was faith.

Thus dwelling in shelter of the most high God is begun with an act of faith. But mankind is easily distracted and drawn out from under the shadow of God's wings where he comes under attack, in spite of his faith.

The next step in protective interference by God is to choose to live there permanently. Ideally, faith would make this an easy choice. Yet for most of us, it is a process of choosing, wandering out, remembering and then choosing again to live in the shadow and therefore the protection of the father. Yes, we walk in this world, but we have the testimony of the protection, power and provision of the Father and we choose to abide under his shadow. We don't just go there for protection from the storm, we take up residence. If I choose to live in trust and acknowledge him always, the wings spread over every area of my life. They move as I move in trust.

There is a boldness to the protection of the father.

The reference is “secret place” in some translations. God is our hideout. We are in a place unknown to the enemy. Sometimes he is a bunker, the enemy knows where we are, but his shadow is impenetrable. In either case we rest in trust. We are safe from the seen and the unseen. We are safe from traps, snares, pestilence: fatal epidemic disease. But also his faithfulness will be shield and rampart: the defensive wall of a castle or city with a broad walkway and stone parapets from which we can see the enemy, but he cannot reach us.

Because of our humanity, it seems impossible to trust that disease and danger are restrained, that the arrows- fiery darts of the wicked, the plots and slander of wicked people, fall on the shield of faith: Ephesians 6. Whatever stalks in the darkness: evil surprises, attacks from our enemy, are fended off. We can take on the lion or the serpent whether defensively as we walk or offensively as we stomp him in the ground.

Our human dwelling is referred to as a tent: vulnerable, transient, destructible. Yet when we move in under the shadow of his wings, the evil cannot reach our vulnerability. We are a spectator to the consequences that fall on wicked people because we have made God our dwelling place and refuge. We won't even trip and stumble on rocks or stub our toes.

There is a restraint to the protection of the father.

We must stay in his shadow. First is the matter of patience with what appears to be going on. 'Fret not.” appears time after time in scripture. We work ourselves up over life and then start taking things into our own hands. Sometimes knowing he is God is just a matter of staying still. We don't have to answer Satan's attack. Jesus did that for us. We must trust confidently in his goodness and not doubt his protection even when things get scary.

He must have the limelight. We must shine through him but not in his place. I cannot assume the glory and live in his shadow. And yet what a glorious place to live in these promises.

Confidence in God, his power and his love, are part of the limitations and conditions. We can reside in and concentrate on the covering and protection of being "in Christ" at God's side. When we move away, get out from under his shadow and begin to do it our way, we take ourselves out of the amazing protection of Psalm 91.

We start the relationship through faith. We continue it by moving in to stay. My belief is that the relationship is forever. Eternal. Can't touch this. Victory is through staying close under his wings. Am I saying nothing bad will ever be your experience? Maybe. For I learn that definitions change in God's presence and it's okay. Finding the eternal view is part of residing under his shadow.

Helpless to Heaven Part 2 - Trust in God's Shadow

Relationships on earth are, I believe, a picture of our relationship to God. In comparison many of the problems we carry in relationship to other people are born in our relationship to God. I've never seen Psalm 91 as a relationship psalm before this time. I believe there are 3 distinct steps in the relationship we have to the Father and the first is trust. A list of definitions and related material is available in Helpless to Heaven Part 1.

In the beginning of my study of Psalm 91 I wrote: I must decide if I will believe that this speaks directly to me. I understand that it speaks prophecy of Jesus, but “as he is so are we in this world.” And “what you see of me you shall do also.” This brings hope that this scripture can be accessed by the believer.

That sounds good, right? There is no other passage so totally stuffed full of amazing promises and I'm a believer, right? So I asked my Father to help me see, understand, and appropriate what was truly mine for my benefit and his kingdom's. It's a good attitude to start with, but maybe that was more in theory than actuality. Yet God hears and he was willing to answer that prayer even if I didn't understand what I prayed.

Verse 1 and 2: Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

I'm well acquainted with shelters. I've run to small empty cabins placed beside a trail for that reason. I've met and ministered to and with homeless people who live in refrigerator and mattress boxes. I've gotten animals from the Humane Society's shelter. Fort Chaffee has served as a shelter to refugees and storm victims over the years. But shelter also means to cover, protect, keep from harm and extreme conditions.

Fortresses are abundant in history and cultures throughout the world. When we were in France we visited churches that housed armies and protected local populations during WW2. Most of them became bomb targets for that fact. Many had the stained glass obliterated though the thick walls withstood the blasts. These were structures you could trust.

I live in a fort built at the edge of the land where the government exiled many native cultures well over a century ago. It was also a place of definition during the civil war. It then became a bastion of legal order when the Oklahoma territory became the refuge of lawless thieves and murderers. It is today a sanctuary for the protection of both mammals and birds. And it maintains a large number of storm and disaster shelters for it's inhabitants.

The shelter in these verses is operated by the Most High God. One thing in my word studies that was of interest was the different degrees of the word 'dwell'. It can involve anything from a short term stay to a permanent arrangement. But when you dwell in God's shelter, you can rest in his ability to keep you safe from attack or circumstance. When you are there, you are under his shadow. He is the covering and he is the limelight. Sometimes I think one reason we venture out from under his shelter is because we cannot shine there and we want to 'shine.' Yet he is to be the visible one in the relationship.

The promises are amazing for those who will remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the Lord "he is my refuge and fortress, my God, on him I lean and in him I confidently trust.

"For then he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence.

Then he will cover you with his pinions and under his wings you shall trust and find refuge;

his truth and his faithfulness are a shield and buckler.

Then you will not be afraid of the terror of the night,

nor of the arrow that flies by day,

nor of the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,

nor of the destruction and sudden death that surprise and lay waste at noonday.

Dare we believe? But do we dare not believe in this terror ridden world? Trust -confidence in his care, power and provision- is the key to the first part of this relationship. Without faith it is impossible to please God. Without faith, we do not dwell in his protection. He is my refuge and my fortress. And yet I will venture out to do my own protecting, my own providing in my own pitiful strength.