From The Sheep Pen

What’s In Your Eye?

They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, with a request. “Sir,” they said, “we would like to see Jesus.”John 12:21

I haven’t written here in a very long time. My spirit was more than willing, but the flesh…well, it’s been a struggle. This summer has been unusually hot, dry and terrible for my full-sun garden. In June the perennials came up beautifully, especially Black-eyed Susans and Shasta Daisies, filling the garden beds without any help from me. But the relentless heat and assorted garden pests haven’t been kind to my plantings. I nursed one lonely cherry tomato plant into actually producing tiny tomatoes. Dan would have been proud! Or not. The chipmunks nibbled away at the underside of the fruit, the leaves yellowed and – the tomatoes were as bitter as gall! Some things aren’t my gifting.

Because of the afternoon heat, I tried to keep house and water the gardens in the morning coolness. I don’t do well in 90 degree afternoons any more and was too enervated to focus on writing at night. All this is to say, God has still been good to me in the cool of the morning as well as in afternoon drought. I find His grace even when I can’t do half what I used to.

Recently, I had cataract surgery and am so grateful for the technology which allows doctors to correct what commonly used to make people blind. However, I was told there is another problem in my left eye and need to have monthly injections in that eye. I imagined a needle the size of a plank jabbed into my eye which sounded about as much fun as a root canal. I shouldn’t have fussed. The doctor was experienced, the needle was like a pin prick and the procedure over in the blink of an eye! However, I now have the gift of floaters, those black spots which appear in your vision, but are always just out of reach, like large gnats hiding and seeking. At first there was a large black bubble dangling below my chin. “Oh no problem,” the doctor said. “It’s normal and will disappear in a few days.” He was right, of course.

But normal or not, the floater was a huge distraction in my field of vision.The more I ignored it, the more persistently it distorted what I was seeing or doing. In fact, I couldn’t NOT see it. It demanded my attention for hours, wearied me and I was happy for the relief of sleep. It’s finally disappeared, but hatched little floaters which are also annoying but tolerable. But each time one pops up, I see it and feel like swatting it away.  As my eye heals, the floaters will go away.

I think of the spiritual floaters which so often distract me from God -those things that show up and I cannot rid my vision of them. Sometimes they’re large, wet bubbles of a black resentment or the flying fragments of harsh words or a cloud of gnats blinding me to God’s love. More often than not, as Jesus warned, I imagine  super – floaters in another’s eye, but ignore my own. In truth, I can never see what another person sees. Like every other cellular design  in our bodies, God designed each person’s eyes uniquely.It is for  for one reason alone: to seek out the  Person of Jesus  and see Him for ourselves.

What’s In Your Eye?

They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, with a request. “Sir,” they said, “we would like to see Jesus.”John 12:21

I haven’t written here in a very long time. My spirit was more than willing, but the flesh…well, it’s been a struggle. This summer has been unusually hot, dry and terrible for my full-sun garden. In June the perennials came up beautifully, especially Black-eyed Susans and Shasta Daisies, filling the garden beds without any help from me. But the relentless heat and assorted garden pests haven’t been kind to my plantings. I nursed one lonely cherry tomato plant into actually producing tiny tomatoes. Dan would have been proud! Or not. The chipmunks nibbled away at the underside of the fruit, the leaves yellowed and – the tomatoes were as bitter as gall! Some things aren’t my gifting.

Because of the afternoon heat, I tried to keep house and water the gardens in the morning coolness. I don’t do well in 90 degree afternoons any more and was too enervated to focus on writing at night. All this is to say, God has still been good to me in the cool of the morning as well as in afternoon drought. I find His grace even when I can’t do half what I used to.

Recently, I had cataract surgery and am so grateful for the technology which allows doctors to correct what commonly used to make people blind. However, I was told there is another problem in my left eye and need to have monthly injections in that eye. I imagined a needle the size of a plank jabbed into my eye which sounded about as much fun as a root canal. I shouldn’t have fussed. The doctor was experienced, the needle was like a pin prick and the procedure over in the blink of an eye! However, I now have the gift of floaters, those black spots which appear in your vision, but are always just out of reach, like large gnats hiding and seeking. At first there was a large black bubble dangling below my chin. “Oh no problem,” the doctor said. “It’s normal and will disappear in a few days.” He was right, of course.

But normal or not, the floater was a huge distraction in my field of vision.The more I ignored it, the more persistently it distorted what I was seeing or doing. In fact, I couldn’t NOT see it. It demanded my attention for hours, wearied me and I was happy for the relief of sleep. It’s finally disappeared, but hatched little floaters which are also annoying but tolerable. But each time one pops up, I see it and feel like swatting it away.  As my eye heals, the floaters will go away.

I think of the spiritual floaters which so often distract me from God -those things that show up and I cannot rid my vision of them. Sometimes they’re large, wet bubbles of a black resentment or the flying fragments of harsh words or a cloud of gnats blinding me to God’s love. More often than not, as Jesus warned, I imagine  super – floaters in another’s eye, but ignore my own. In truth, I can never see what another person sees. Like every other cellular design  in our bodies, God designed each person’s eyes uniquely.It is for  for one reason alone: to seek out the  Person of Jesus  and see Him for ourselves.

Even to your old age, I will be the same, and I will bear you up when you turn gray. I have made you, and I will carry you; I will sustain you and deliver you. Isaiah 46:4

Several years ago I discovered amaryllis bulbs which are usually for sale in the late fall. The fat bulbs are planted in deep pots and go dormant for most of the year until the fall when green shoots appear and long, slender leaves grow from the the bulb. In time a single stalk slowly emerges and shoots upward like a green trunk. Sometimes it takes weeks for the amaryllis to wake up and “do its thing”but then wonder of wonders, flowers form at the top of the stalk and burst open in gorgeous shades of red, orange or coral, as big as plates and more showy than prize roses.

Last fall I bought two bulbs at the end of October and began tending them. The first one did exactly as expected, had healthy leaves and twin stalks which seemed to grow right into the top of the window seeking light and air. Soon the flower buds appeared, but I didn’t get to see them because I went to Germany in early December just at the time when huge crimson flowers, five on each stalk appeared. The flowers were so lush and heavy, the stalks couldn’t support them and almost toppled over.

The second bulb was a different story. Nothing happened in November or in December and I was ready to toss it because I assumed it was dead. But I watered it when dry, turned it toward the sunlight and kept checking for green growth. Finally, finally in late January leaves emerged and a stalk began to grow. And grow. And grow some more until almost 24 inches tall. Then the miracles happened. One, then another flower head formed until now there are five gorgeous orange-hued blooms in various stages of their flowering. It took almost four months for this amaryllis to bloom. But mow, it fills my February winter window with the life that was in it all along. It is simply a late bloomer.

Lately I have felt more dormant than full of vitality, more dry-bulb-like than flourishing. I still want to be a primed-ready amaryllis in this later season for isn’t that what God intends? To have life and life more abundantly? Well yes, but I’m discovering  that even in old age, there is a later blooming. It requires more patience and more daily tending. It requires seeking the light of Christ when I feel only darkness; it requires watering my soul with the Word of God when I wake in the night parched and thirsty. Like a plant turning toward the the sun, my heart daily seeks God’s love.. Isaiah understood that God sustains us even into old age, not just when everything grows lushly. Some bloom in their season and others do so later. However the life of the Spirit is never dormant.

In Isaiah God promises that He will bear us up even when we’re gray haired, perhaps not flowering as we used to and needing more support so we don’t topple over. God gives life and will sustain it to the end. We live and move and flower in His timing and seasons

Praise God for becoming His late bloomer!

It was the day before the day before Christmas Eve and I was in my Boise apartment recuperating from a week of jet lag and traveling from Europe. After visiting crowded Christmas markets in Vienna and other ancient German cities stretched along the Danube River, after the overload of all things Weihnachten in hundreds of vendors’ booths, after feeling like I was in a swirling glass globe filled with memories of my own German childhood, Christmas here seemed,  well pale in comparison.

I was not at all prepared for the actual Christmas holiday which I was going to spend in Boise with my daughter and son-in-law. I had a few gifts, but nothing to wrap them in. I headed to the nearest Dollar Store for Christmas bags and ribbon – and whatever caught my last minute fancy.I certainly didn’t need another ornament or trinket made in the “people’s republic”, but the attraction of these so-called Dollar Stores stores is that everything looks good, is dirt cheap and disposable . Surprisingly,  the store wasn’t crowded, the lines were short and I could be out of there in a flash.

Ahead of me in line was a young boy, perhaps ten or eleven years old, buying a small gift. He was disheveled as if comb and brush were foreign objects, his shoes were untied and he reminded me of one of Dickens’ street urchins.As the cashier rang up his purchase, the boy placed two dollars on the counter with hopeful look. It became obvious that the gift cost more than two dollars. The cashier, a teen with unusual patience, waited as the boy emptied his pockets onto the counter. Still not enough! The boy’s predicament agitated him , but still he waited, not knowing what to do.

“Do you need some help with that,” I asked, but I don’t think he heard me. . Just then, the young cashier took out his credit card and swiped the card reader. He never said a word, but when the boy tried to give him all his money, he simply handed it back.
“Is it a gift for your mother?” I asked? The boy’s face lit up like a newly lit candle. He smiled, nodded and left the store with his precious “purchase.”

I thanked the cashier for his kindness, but he didn’t really need my thanks. I suspect this wasn’t the first time he’d helped someone out of his own pocket. I thought about the fact that the teenager was working for barely minimum wages and couldn’t afford to be generous. Yet he was.He had compassion for a boy much like himself. And he gave from the little he had. I felt truly humbled, knowing how much more of everything I have available to me.

In the encounter with the boy, I understood once again the real power and gift of Christmas. It isn’t found in centuries old cathedrals or decorated market square vendors selling thousands of beautiful Christmas items. It isn’t in abbeys set like fortress on the hills, guarding priceless  treasures. It definitely isn’t in Santa or any holiday image or story or song. The spirit and gift of Christmas is Jesus who loved me and the two precious boys enough to be born into humanity. It is, was and always will be Jesus. His love shows up in the most unexpected ways. Sometimes the Prince of Peace stands in line with empty pockets at a Dollar Store.!

Frohe Weihnachten to one and all!

When my heart was embittered and I was pierced within. Psalm 73:21

Recently during our ladies’ bi-monthly coffee meeting (aptly named Grounds for Improvement) the topic was “Bitter Pills to Swallow.” Swallowing a bitter pill metaphorically means that we’re going through an unpleasant experience and it’s like having to ingest something which tastes like bile, is difficult to swallow and too often gets stuck in our throat.There’s nothing to do except get that dang thing down with a little water.

It refers to those times when life isn’t sweetness and light, but suddenly becomes like a tiny, chafing, irritating pebble inside your shoe which you discover only after you walk about. It can’t be ignored and has too be removed immediately. If not, the irritant can easily become blistered and infected.

We all have had bitter pills to swallow. Dreams are crushed, promises are broken, children go off the rails, health is one annoying ailment after another, a loved one dies and you’re left unmoored with stacks of bills or forms to fill out. The bitterness comes because life suddenly isn’t how you hoped it would be, your faith struggles and is tested , and love …? Well , it’s hard to love when your mouth is full of bitterness.

I identified with the discussion because that morning I’d taken my stash of pills (keeping me stroke- free) , swallowed the handful with water, but one pill didn’t go down with the rest.  It lingered like gall in my mouth and the nasty taste remained even after I’d swallowed it. The funny thing is that this pill was the tiniest of all of them – a 2.5 mg blood pressure medication. It’s so small – and yet so potent. It can save my life, but when stuck on my tongue it is bitterness itself. It feels like poison, not life-saving medicine.

Jesus said that we would have trials: some as small as pebbles in our sandals, others crushing, loosened boulders. We shouldn’t be surprised that bitter pills are scattered on the paths ahead of us. Jesus promised to help us during every moment, especially during heart aches. He offers the solution to any bitterness which we might carry – forgiveness. I think of His final words as he was nailed to the cross, “Father forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing.” He spoke while experiencing the most bitter pill of all – the weight of our sin and the momentary sense of the Father’s abandonment ! We are to forgive as Jesus did. Always. Peter was told seventy  times seven,  times even if it meant him swallowing his pride each time.

The smallest “pill” of bitter unforgiveness can be the most destructive. Judas betrayed Jesus with a simple kiss. The Bible doesn’t say what turned his heart against Christ, but I can speculate there was a seed of bitterness Judas nurtured, some unrecorded slight, rejection or disappointment which poisoned him. Jesus forgave and went to the cross for Judas, also.

Ephesians 4:31, 32 tells us how to “swallow bitter pills” as disciples of Jesus. .

Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice And be kind to one another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.

When Dan and I relocated to New Meadows in the 1990’s, we eventually found a beautiful lot in a wooded area of the subdivision and built our forever home. We have been blessed for many years in our home and Dan thanked the Lord every day for the privilege. Dan is gone, but I too am thankful for the years we had.

However, a year ago or so, my homeowner’s insurance was cancelled because my house was now designated to be in a “ fire zone” and at risk. I wasn’t given any other options and had about three weeks to find new insurance which my mortgage requires. Thankfully, I did find a company that would insure the house, naturally at much higher premiums. It’s been a year-long process to get that done.

An independent  insurance inspector came to assess the house and property and wrote up a list of compliances which needed to be taken care of, some of which were valid, many of which were not, according to county standards. Some were beauracratic and just plain absurd.. He came and he left without contact information or giving any recourse. Then winter, snow and ice came to stay for six months and this spring, I was suddenly in a crunch to “comply.” Had it not been for my church family and Christian brothers who helped me figure things out, I don’t know what I would have done. Had it not been for Christian sisters who prayed with me through this very stressful season, this story might be very different.

We have allowed the world’s systems to dictate, control, encroach and entangle our lives – because we fear losing something that God has given us to tend. In my case it was my home not being insured if there is a forest fire. Dan and I have lived here surrounded by a forest of trees for 30 years without fear of fire, but suddenly that has changed, not because of the actual danger, but because an unknown person in the chain of insurance command tells me I am in danger. Worse still, several people have told me that nowadays insurance decisions are made by algorithms, not flesh and blood individuals. In other words, some computer generated program has the final word about my home. Certainly it’s the same scenario for other potential disasters where insurance has made itself necessary: automobiles, floods, earthquakes, tornadoes,  health, social services, etc. AI has arrived  but gives absolutely  no assurance for the future of my home.

Whom do I really trust? If I trusted God to keep us safe all those years, why now do I falter in my trust? Does God change? As the Apostle Paul would say, certainly not! God desires obedience and trust, not compliance and fear. Psalm 27 directs me to seek God as the source of all assurance, mercy and grace. His Holy Spirit is the best insurance coverage I will ever need.

The Lord is my light and my salvation;
Whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the strength of my life;
Of whom shall I be afraid?

What are you discussing together as you   walk along? Luke 24:17

Easter was several weeks ago but it seems much longer ago, even months. Spring is here in the mountains with blustery winds and still quite cool night-time temperatures. April showers and May flowers, as the saying goes, don’t necessarily follow the order of the calendar. Liturgically, the Church moves into the season of Pentecost as believers anticipate the Holy Spirit’s outpouring on all flesh as prophesied by Joel and promised by Jesus for His disciples.

I, however, am still caught up in the Easter events because Jesus’ Resurrection is our ongoing story and eternal salvation. My mind can’t fully comprehend the glory  of Jesus’ death. resurrection and ascension to heaven. By faith, I know He ascended to the right Hand of the Father with all power and authority to rule the heavens and the earth. It is enough for me right now to simply believe, not analyze mysteries of the divine Kingdom with  my limited understanding.

God’s Word has drawn me back repeatedly into Luke’s post-resurrection account of two disciples meeting the risen Jesus on the Road to Emmaus. It is Sunday and they are leaving Jerusalem after the violence of the crucifixion. They are tired, disappointed, discouraged and afraid. They were quietly discussing Jesus’ death and how He wasn’t the Messiah they’d hoped for. They simply want to go home to Emmaus and normalcy. With each step, they leave Jerusalem – and their hope for liberation – behind them. Jesus enters their conversation on the road and then illuminates all of prophecy and the Scriptures. He opens the eyes of their hearts to what happened in Jerusalem, and why. Jesus draws them back toward Himself with great gentleness and even gives some rabbi-like chiding for their lack of faith. After breaking bread with them in Emmaus, He disappears from their midst. Jesus knew exactly what these two disciples needed to restore their faith in Him. They needed Him!

Amazingly, the two disciples “got up at once and returned to Jerusalem” the same Sunday night. The day was almost gone, it was seven miles back to Jerusalem and it would be their second trip of the day. They’re longer tired, depressed and afraid, but now with hearts on fire as Jesus spoke with them on the road. They return to the Eleven disciples to share their exciting news. Luke doesn’t say, but I imagine that these two disciples remained with the others in prayer and fasting until the Promise came.

There are seasons when we Christians find ourselves walking away from a type of Jerusalem on the Emmaus Road. Sometimes, I’m filled with disappointments that my life or calling or ministry or family or church isn’t what I was expecting. I’ve become disillusioned with outcomes, anxious about “what’s next” and question God’s purposes for me. The road leading away from Jerusalem beckons me like a crooked finger to whatever is familiar and safe.

The problem is that when we walk away from “our pain filled Jerusalem “ we also walk away from the cross of Jesus who commanded us to follow Him daily. If I find myself on any road where the cross of Christ is overshadowed by flesh or the devil, may God’s grace, and an angel or two, turn me around again to go back.

The two disciples did not return to their brethren in their former hopeless mind- sets. Their hearts burned because they had encountered the One, the Messiah for whom they’d been waiting and longing. And Jesus changed everything for them in that seven mile walk.

We  never return to the same life we left or to the Jerusalem we knew before. The road trip  is always transformative.  We go back to living   either as victims or conquerors. I believe that whenever we choose to return to Jerusalem, to whatever, whenever and wherever Jesus says, “follow Me”,we can come back with renewed vision, illuminated minds, divine strength and spiritual clarity because Jesus has been with us on the road and speaks to us. The Holy Spirit awaits our return with new fire.

Jesus came, the doors being shut, and stood and stood in the midst and said ‘Peace to you.’ John 20:26

It’s the day after Easter and the world is going about its business as usual. It’s the day after the most momentous, mysterious and memorable day in history and already on the back burner of the public’s interest. Jesus’ death on Friday and Sunday Resurrection which flipped history upside down 2,000 years ago is relegated to a long weekend on the calendar. Pagans are ready to move on into the next season of Mondays. And what of believers? How long do we hold onto Jesus’ Resurrection as the pivotal moment of existence?

In the Bible, we’re told a great deal about the events of Friday and Sunday: Jesus’ torture and crucifixion; the disciples’ fear and abandonment; John’s recording of Jesus’ Words on the cross; Jesus’ body being taken down, wrapped and placed in Joseph of Arimethea’s personal tomb. Saturday is the day of silence and seemingly lost hope. It is a great pause in the salvation plan of God. Then comes Sunday morning , a divine eruption, a tsunami of heavenly events involving angels and humans, Jews and the Romans, rulers and authorities -and significantly – Jesus’ disciples. After Mary, Peter and John ( in separate Gospel accounts) saw Jesus’ now empty tomb, they witnessed to the other disciples: He is risen from the dead. And what was the others’ initial reaction to such an amazing report? Jubilation that Jesus lives? That their friend and teacher hadn’t abandoned them? That Messiah did come? Nope. They were terrified.

The Bible says in John that on the same Sunday, the disciples were together in a room behind a shut door because they feared the Jews. Jesus appeared, calmed them with His Presence. and offered them Peace, their reconciliation with the Father. He showed His crucifixion scars so as to physically prove He rose from the dead. Those nail and spear scars represented all humanity’s sins which Isaiah foretold the Messiah would bear on the cross. We are forgiven and healed but we have to acknowledge at what cost, His scars.
Jesus breathed on them, and commissioned them. He gave them Holy Spirit power to forgive sins just as He forgave them.

Initially, the disciples were glad to see Jesus, but a week later they were shut in again this time with Thomas who had been absent before. The door was locked. again. They were still afraid . Even after Jesus had been in their midst, the disciples were scattered and unsure. They hadn’t yet received the Pentecostal fire of the Holy Spirit after Jesus’ ascension to the Father. They were experiencing The Monday After… Despite all the evidence, despite Jesus being in their midst through locked doors twice, despite His Words and very breath upon them, they were still afraid and powerless to move on with Him – until the Holy Spirit came. Until Jesus left His disciples to be with the Father they would not understand.

Unlike the disciples who were in caught up in the events, we have greater knowledge of Sunday and the weeks following. We’ve been given the Holy Spirit, we know the ending and have had centuries of God’s Word to help us understand the Resurrection. Yes, the disciples were confused about what was happening and they feared the Jews. For a time they needed Jesus’ physical assurance that He was in their midst. They did not knowhow things would turn out for them.

We do. And yet it’s the Monday after Easter and we forget so quickly. My faith can falter. Just 24 hours after the Resurrection the world wants me to shut myself in and lock the door against Jesus. They forget that the Lord can walk through any door, especially locked up hearts. The power of the Resurrection does not end on Monday morning. It’s an eternal beginning.