From The Sheep Pen

What a fellowship, what a joy divine,
Leaning on the Everlasting Arms! Hymn

I’ve been able to visit with members of my family via Zoom meetings several times now. What an amazing blessing this has been for Dan and me. My brother and his three kids are in New York, Lisa is in Salt Lake, Chris in Coeur D’Alene and Laura now in Boise. During normal, non isolated times (remember those just a few months ago?) it was not easy to get together, never mind now when there are restrictions on travel. So here we are in our little corner of the world chatting with one another as if we lived next door. Technology does have its plus side.

During our Mother’s Day meeting, I noticed my two grand daughters, now teens, who were snuggled up to their mother. Lisa sat between them but the girls were pressed closely against her, one with an arm draped across Lisa’s shoulder. It was such a sweet picture of how secure, comforted and protected the girls felt. If I knew how I would have taken a photo to preserve the memory.

It reminds me of two incidents in Jesus’ life. In the first as told in Luke 10:38-42 Jesus was visiting with his friends in Bethany. As he sat teaching, Mary sat at his feet listening instead of helping Martha with the work. I can imagine the moment. Jesus sits on cushions as was the custom. Mary presses herself to Him near His feet, perhaps even closer than most of us would see as comfortable or appropriate, She doesn’t just look up into His face but examines every one of his beautiful features and hangs on to every word. The woman was unabashedly lovesick.

When Martha complained to the Lord about Mary, Jesus responded to her. “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” Jesus chided Martha for being too busy and gently reminded her that Mary chose the one thing that mattered most to Him – her devotion.

In the second case, Jesus celebrated the Passover with his disciples and had just revealed that one of the them betrayed Him. John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, reclined at his side. Some versions say that John leaned against Jesus’ breast and was closest to Him at the table. Like Mary, John got especially close to the Lord. Jesus welcomed Him into His personal space as He welcomed even the beggars and the lepers.

When we accept Jesus as “our personal Savior” we’re invited into this special intimacy with Him. As God, He already knew us before we were born, when we were in our mother’s womb and all our days written in God’s book. As Savior, Jesus wants our whole being to get womb like close, to feel protected, loved and cared by Him. He who already knows how many hairs we have on our head is not distant or uncaring. He is the God of the living and our lives are so precious to Him, that He endured the agony of the cross to save us and bring us personally home.

This is no far off, abstract deity or tribal warlord we serve, but a face to face Redeemer. Look at Mary. Remember John. They knew Jesus which in the Biblical sense means holy intimacy like husbands and wives share. Have you accepted Christ personally like that? Did you once but now have forgotten the joy and privilege of leaning on Jesus’ breast? He still calls. Come to me. Take my yoke upon you for I am meek and humble of heart. Lean into me as much as you desire, as much as Mary and John did. Take the better part.

Most mornings now I like to sit with a hot cup of tea in front of the living room window and … just sit for a while. I see the sky lightening, clouds creating new shapes against the early sun and watch the day unfold itself like a lazy child. Here in the mountains, I can’t see the whole sky like on the prairie in Cottonwood, where the blazing sun fills up the sky like an overzealous artist with a bucket of gold. My view is mostly forest green etched with tall, ragged Ponderosa pine tree. Birds come early to feed on insects sunflower seeds so there’s usually a flurry of wings at the feeders.

I used to get up and hit the floor running, making the bed, unloading the dishwasher, etc., etc., but now after weeks of isolation, I wonder, whatever for? I’ve all day long to do chores. There’s no rush. Some people read their Bibles when they first get up, but my mind awakens more leisurely. The first half hour has become a precious quiet time just to Be and to thank God for the blessings He pours out each day because His mercies are new every morning. Thus I begin the day in peace and am increasingly aware of God’s Hand over life. I can do this now because for the last four months I have slept well. The nightly affliction of almost a year long insomnia is gone. God be praised! I am very, very thankful to get up in the morning feeling well and rested. It is a miracle.

My life is also simpler than it used to be. The stress, drama and chaos of the past is over. Now one day slides into the next seemingly without change, without noticeable differences. Monday is like Friday and I’m no longer ruled by the calendar. That is a good thing. However, the placid valley floor isn’t nearly as exciting as encountering Jesus on the mountain. I’ve been spoiled by all the great and mighty works which the Lord has done for me and my family. And the church? We cross a river and search for the milestones, signs and wonders, but forget that God places thousands more pebbles into the riverbed under our feet.

Sometimes it is the most basic blessings we take for granted, things like sleep and breathing, our heartbeats, and being able to see, touch and hear . We’re rather ho-hum about the gift of life residing in bodies designed by the Brilliant Designer of all creation because they’re simply there so we pay no attention, at least until we can’t see or breathe or sleep. Perhaps then we should count the pebbles instead of sheep!

How amazing to be blessed with another 24 hours – just to sit if I want to.

As we begin another round of COVD19 self isolation from families, church and one another, I continue to welcome and pray for all of you who wander onto this blog. I’ve not written as much as I would like recently, certainly not from lack of time. Instead, I am working to finish a huge writing project that’s been in front of me for a very long time. Three months ago I set a deadline for my May birthday to finish the manuscript – but that’s proving untenable, so my goal is to finish it as an almost final draft. (We English teachers have difficulty putting the red pen down!)

So here we all are in the 6th week of staying safe in place to do our part during this pandemic. I fully support those whose elected job is to guard and protect us. However, I have noticed an amazing phenomena. In fact it is positively miraculous. People’s hair has stopped growing! Almost two months of social distancing and for some mysterious reason we never see anyone in the public eye scraggly or shaggy, badly in need of grooming.

Now this strange occurrence seems to have skipped over Dan and me and probably most of you because hair and nail salons and barbershops are deemed non essential businesses so we can’t use their services. My short hair has continued to grow quite normally and is now at that dreaded stage where only a thick cloud of hairspray can tame it. Dan’s is the same. We get up in the morning and either laugh at our hair sticking out like straw in scare crows or pretend we didn’t see.

By all reason, unless you are young, we should now be a nation of unkempt, rather poorly groomed, more “natural” people. Wouldn’t you think that over 40 brunettes, blondes and red heads with bright red gel nails would be more grey, less coiffed, with chipped, broken finger nails and that makeup on live television shows looks less professional? You would think so.

However, I can’t name a single public servant, news reporter or politician out in front of the news media looking any different than they did months ago. With all due respect to Tucker, Misters Pence, Biden and Schiff, to the governors and their wives, and to each and every talk show host, celebrity, etc., how do you do it? How do you manage to have shorn hair and a model perfect half day beard growth when all the men I know are sporting hair a la Al Sharpton and Einstein – or the President’s signature comb over? Why aren’t your eyebrows crazy wild? Madame Speaker , may I ask how you do your own hair with nary a strand ever out of place? Or put on daily makeup so expertly? Your 80 year old eyes must be amazingly clear.

Congresswomen and news broadcasters, your acrylic nails are still the perfect length. Ladies and gentlemen, can you share your secrets with the rest of us? Are there miracles going on in your world before the media cameras that aren’t for us? Or is it something else? Like elitism and hypocrisy.

To ask the question is to already know the answer. Some are allowed their salon visits and personal cosmetologists; others are not. The pandemic is revealing a great many unpleasant characteristics about ourselves and vanity seems to be right in front. Neither Dan nor I want to become slovenly. We want to look nice for each other in the privacy of home and when we face time with loved ones. So we’ll continue wait things out as best as we can, hopefully with grace and a sense of humor. But the obvious “do as I say and not as I do” standards of those who are supposed to serve, inform and protect rankles. Hypocrisy is like sand between the toes which chafes and chafes and chafes until it becomes a canker.

Who would have thought that haircuts can be both humbling and enlightening. In the meantime until I can visit Bob the stylist, my friend of 40 years, I’ll put barrettes in my hair, spray it down, cut my bangs crookedly and remember to laugh in the morning.

So there they laid Jesus because of the Jews’ Preparation Day for the tomb was nearby. John 20:42

All four Gospel writers describe what took place after Jesus’ death on the cross. He was wrapped in linens and placed in Joseph of Arimathea’s personal tomb as the Sabbath approached. The next account is that “on the first day of the week” of Mary Magdalene and some other women went to the tomb to anoint Jesus with oils and spices. We know the rest of the marvelous story. The tomb is empty. Jesus has risen from the dead. Good Friday is finished forever. The Resurrection of the Lord is our hope.

But what of that Sabbath Saturday when Jesus’ disciples left him in the tomb and returned so sorrowfully to their homes? What was going on? The Scriptures tells us absolutely nothing of the ensuing time between Jesus’ burial and resurrection. The Scriptures, the revealed Word of God are silent. The silence is deafening and terrible because for perhaps the first time in human history, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is silent. Scripture tells us that Jesus bore the wrath of God…

.. for our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. 2. Corinthians 5:21

I wonder how during the earthly 24 hours before Jesus rose from the dead any prayers were being heard or received by Yahweh? Were the Pharisees or Jews calling to God on the Sabbath? Were the Romans on their knees? To whom did God bend his ear or fix His eye for those hours? As Messiah Jesus had fulfilled every requirement of the law and was the new covenant between men and God. There was no prophet. The old priesthood was null and void. There was no righteous person on earth who could stand before the Creator because not even Jesus’ family or closest friends understood yet who Jesus really was – their Redeemer. Where was their hope not yet revealed? God’s silence on that day 2000 years ago may be the most terrible wrath of all.

Today on the day we call Holy Saturday I pray to remember that singular Sabbath of Silence. I thank God that we’ve never had to experience it since because Jesus paid the price of our sin and the tomb is empty. His Spirit lives and because of him, so do we. We can now approach God’s throne with boldness to ask for mercy and help. I pray we will never have a single day without God responding to our prayers.

The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. 2. Corinthians 4:4

In this fourth week of social distancing and simply staying put I’m sewing face masks for family and friends because I have more fabric than I can possibly ever use up, I am blessed with a sunny sewing room – and I know how to sew. More than that, it’s because I want to do something, anything to help out. I miss serving in the community so this is what is in front of me to do.

I’ve had plenty of time to reflect how the Corona virus affects daily life. I really miss being with family and friends face to face, giving real hugs and getting them, especially from Josh my favorite bear hugger at church, instead of air embracing six feet apart. Yesterday two thoughtful friends walked to our house to say hello ( probably also check on us older folks!) and to pick up face masks that I made. Dan and I sat outside on the porch while they stayed on the driveway. The afternoon was warm and sunny so we lingered as long as we could. It was pleasant but such a reminder of new normals which this virus imposes . We’re accepting that it is normal to wear protective masks in public. We’re warned not to touch one another. We look for signs of a spiking body temperature for the viral attack which we can’t see with our eyes. It is an invisible foe.

Masks and elevated temperatures are two faces of this particular Covid 19 coin. We put on the mask to protect us and other from getting the virus. We take our temperatures to see if the virus has taken hold. They are visible indicators of what’s happening to us physically. However, “as in the natural, so in the spiritual” as one of my mentors teaches. What goes on in the invisible spiritual world, in the battleground between light and darkness is far more critical to our souls than this pandemic is to our bodies.

To be blunt, let’s admit that we Christians actually wear masks every day. The question is why? What are protecting from? Everyone talks incessantly about being vulnerable and transparent, but then why do we hide half of our faces in front of believers because of fear, suspicion, rejection and old hurts? How many times a day do we slip on worldly masks of unrighteousness instead of the Word of God because we want to be tolerant, accepted, and too afraid to speak the Gospel? Is there a well worn mask that filters out the breath of the Holy Spirit which is conviction and correction. Why do we put on the mass produced masks of the devil so we don’t have to look in the mirror at our stiff necks and stoney hearts? Why do we hide behind the iron mask of unrepentant sin and shame before the blinding light of God who sees us, knows everything about us and offers us His love in Christ Jesus?

Undoubtedly these questions are difficult, but this is not the time to shirk them. Let’s not put on the mask of indifference and denial…
…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, Romans 3:23

As Jesus’ Church, let believers be the first to stand before our God with our naked faces lifted to His. May we pray that Holy Spirit rips off the masks we unwittingly or deliberately put on. It is spiritual temperature taking time, the gauge needed to show where an unseen, mortal virus has taken hold of your heart and doing violence to your spirit.

It is Sunday morning and we’re not going to church because of the pandemic. Common sense and health precautions against the coronavirus have cancelled all church services in the area. It is a first in my life time and deeply troubling. I know the decisions to close Mountain Life Church were made only after much prayer and pastoral soul searching and I respect the decision.

If one looks at the country as well as at the entire world, it may look dire. Across the globe almost all churches are empty, dark and locked. God’s people are absent. There are no mega congregations of believers. There is no public praise and worship, no old hymns being sung, no choirs or contemporary music teams on stage. There are no preachers preaching in front of us or priests celebrating rites. There are no exhortations of the Word of God. There are no collections. Today we see what our nation and world will look like without God at the center and without Christ worshiped in public. The enemies of Christianity would like to believe it’s their evil hey day dancing with the devil.

There is no victory for Satan. He’s already vanquished. God is in control on His throne. The churches may have gone dark for a while but believing Christians have not. The “church” is not the building or what takes place on a Sunday morning. We who follow Jesus are the ecclesia, the called out ones, Christ’s ambassadors. We are His Body on the earth and we are actually more visible right now exactly where we are in the solitude of our own homes. God will use the pandemic for His glory.

For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,” declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so My ways are higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.…Isaiah 55:8

In fact this morning we’re more recognizable as the Body of Christ than we were last Sunday because today all our denominational and theological differences are stripped away. The self imposed filters of church identity are not on display. Today the practice of the Christian faith is leveled for all believing Christians. It doesn’t matter if the church you attend is called evangelical, conservative, catholic, congregational, episcopalian, lutheran, methodist, etc, etc. Today, stripped of buildings, people, rites, services, music, preaching and church differences none of us dares to claim a name greater than Jeusus’. We are simply Christians and His Body.

We may be scattered but we’re definitely not divided. For as along as this pandemic keeps us at home, God is giving us a 2.Chronicle opportunity to be His Church:

If My people, who are called by My name, shall humble themselves and pray, and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. 2. Chronicles 7:14

All across the planet, can we the Body of Christ, the Church of Jesus who are called by His Name obey the Lord? Will we realize who we’re called to be, humble ourselves and repent for the sin of church divisions? Will the Church pray today as the triumphant Church?

A view at us from above the clouds or space can see either lax, lukewarm and nominal Christians hunkering down in isolation, just waiting for the time when things go back to their normal church. Or it can be the blessed sight of countless millions of Christian believers stretched across the globe from China to Africa to Europe to the United States and to the ends of the earth, on our knees, symbolically linking arms and calling out to God to heal the land He’s promised we will take.

Today is St. Patrick’s Day and since I have a soft spot in my heart for all things Irish I want to celebrate St. Patrick along with all true sons and daughters of Eire. I grew up in New York where St. Patrick’s Day meant you had to wear something green or risk getting pinched by someone for good luck. It meant singing Irish songs in neighborhood pubs along with copious consumptions of green beer if one was so inclined. It also meant my high school marching in the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in Manhattan for several, usually cold and blustery hours. In the days before slacks or pants were allowed for girls, our serge blue uniforms and beanie hats did little to keep us warm. Despite the music and festivities, it was not something we girls always looked forward to and I must confess that by the time I was a senior, my friends and I ditched the parade somewhere en route (secretly, of course) and looked for fun elsewhere. Still, the memories of the city wide celebrations are precious.

And so today when so much of the country is morose and shuttered down, I’d like to offer a glossary of some Irish lore to lighten our moods and to remember the impact of a long ago saint who preached the good news of Jesus to pagan Ireland.

St. Patrick. A fifth century missionary who was born in Britain. At age 16 he was taken prisoner to Ireland. He escaped and having become a Christian, he returned to evangelize the country. He is one of Ireland’s national saints.
Shamrock. The green three-leafed clover is the national flower of Ireland. It was supposedly used by the saint to explain the mystery of the Trinity to the pagans.
Snakes. Part of the myths surrounding St. Patrick is that he drove the saints out of Ireland. Actually, there were no snakes in the country. It may symbolically refer to Christ’s driving out of the devil from the country.
St. Patrick’s breastplate. This long Celtic hymn or Lorica is attributed to the saint and apostle and is often invoked for protection. The most familiar verse is the following.
“Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye of everyone who sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.”

Blarney Stone. A limestone rock in Blarney Castle which gives the gift of gab to anyone who kisses it. Since the Irish are reputed for eloquence, wit and “blarney”, the stone may have been well kissed and often!
“Danny Boy.” A beloved traditional Irish ballad, sung by tenors of all nationalities as well as Johnny Cash! It was written in 1913 by Frederick Weatherly. It tells of a father’s sending his son off to war.
“Erin go Bragh.” Gaelic for “Ireland till the end of Time.” A declaration of loyalty and patriotism.
St. Patrick’s Day Parades. Celebration of Irish culture, food, music and wearing of the green. The largest one in the U.S. is in New York with Savannah, Georgia close behind. Every year Chicago turns the Chicago river green on March 17.
“Kiss me, I’m Irish!” Well, perhaps not for a while, social distancing and all.

And finally, I offer this lovely Gaelic blessing and wish you all – Happy St. Patrick’s Day.
“May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand”

I sit here on this beautiful sunshine afternoon gladdened that yesterday’s snow is melting and that there is a whiff of spring in the air. I am mindful that God is nigh. He is as close to us today as He was yesterday before the coronavirus pandemic sent the world into a tailspin. He is as close to us today as He will be tomorrow which thankfully, is unknown except to Him alone. Our God is so near He can hear a whispered prayer and is never deafened by desperate cries for deliverance. I don’t know about anyone else, but my hope for myself, my family, my church and nation during this health crisis is more solid now than it’s ever been for I’ve seen the Lord’s hand in all of them before.

I know that my redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand on the earth.Job 19:25

I don’t feel qualified to offer any particularly new or brilliant insights about trusting God in adverse times like the present one. Many others have already penned greater wisdom and encouragement. On this still lovely sun-filled afternoon, may you take heart from a mighty man of God, Charles Spurgeon, who never doubted the Lord’s divine Providence and Deliverance. Here is the link to the article on The Stream.

Do Not Doubt God’s Deliverance!

Cast all your care upon Him for He cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7

This Scripture has become one of my favorites. For one thing it is short enough for me to memorize and recall when anxiety takes a hold, especially in the middle of the night when I may be too tired to get out of bed to fumble for my Bible.

The shortest verses in the Bible are often the most profound. I think of Jesus’ terse “Follow Me,” two words which are both invitation and command from the Lord of creation to us. I think of Jesus’ “It is finished” on the cross and the dramatic shift in human history back into the Father’s embrace. I think of “Jesus wept” and what it says about the Lord’s deep love for us and His divine understanding of our human frailties.

In 1. Peter 5, the apostle reminds us that we have a God who does not leave us to muddle through life’s treacherous waters on our own. Like the Good Shepherd of Psalm 23, Jesus is the caring overseer who leads His sheep at all times and never allows them to stray too far. Sheep are totally dependent on the shepherd for all their caretaking. So also should we approach the Lord when anxiety and cares drag us down.

I’ve always loved words’ denotations and connotations. For normal, non-geeky people who don’t share this linguistic fascination ( or care a fig about them), this simply means that words have literal and implied meaning. Peter uses the word care (the English translation of Greek melo) two times in an eleven word verse. That catches my attention! But what’s especially interesting is that care has at least three literal and implied meanings in English: worries and anxieties (burden, grief, trouble); providing for someone’s needs (look after, tend, care take); and to be concerned about (pay attention to, take interest in, give thought to.) The last definition also implies a loving, selfless providing for another, like a mother’s care for her child and Jesus’ caring for his sheep.

1. Peter 5:7 is therefore, exceedingly rich in meaning. We’re encouraged and commanded to cast all cares upon God. Jesus says they are the cares of the world (Matthew 13:22 and Mark 4:19). They are the cares of riches (Luke 8:14) and the cares of life (Luke 21:34). They are anxieties about anything and everything (1.Peter 5:7). Is there any circumstance in life, ourselves and the world which Jesus does not cover in these verses?

There is nothing that we can not bring to God. Jesus was tempted in every way as we are and identifies with our weaknesses and anxieties. God’s care and caring is never far off – if we are humble enough to acknowledge Him and ask for help. He alone is our loving and providential Father who gives unending thought to us , whose eye always sees us as we are; Jesus is our selfless Savior who cared enough to go to the cross and now intercedes before the Father; and the Holy Spirit is Comforter, the tending Presence whose direction and assurance covers every and all anxiety.

Our God cares for us more intimately than words can describe.

Simon Peter answered, “Lord, where would we go? You have the words of eternal life. John 6:68

Yesterday morning a pastor from the valley spoke and ministered at our church. He began by asking the question, “What would you do if Jesus was in the room? How would it affect your prayers? Your worship? Would there be a radical difference in your approach to Him? Would you even recognize Him?” He then asked everyone to close their eyes and be still.

A few seconds later someone began to speak. Curious, I opened my eyes to see what was going on. A young man dressed in the garments of a first century Jewish rabbi came onto the stage. He began this way: “I am the true vine and the Father is the vinedresser.” As he continued, he walked among the congregation speaking the entire text of John 15. It was an amazing feat. Many people thought it was a recording, not a live reenactment. I was mesmerized.

The presence of the young man who was probably about Jesus’ age, wearing clothing such as Jesus might have worn, speaking Jesus’ words with a decidedly Jewish intonation and accent, moving amid a crowd, graphically portrayed what the pastor was trying to teach. Jesus is always in the room. This is what happens. Personally it was very moving, powerful and thought provoking, an inescapable, “in your face” teaching moment. More than anything else, that slightly accented voice speaking as if Jesus…, touched me. I could imagine myself in a Galilee crowd by the sea or on a mountain listening to Jesus’ voice, absorbing His words. The power of the Word spoken as Jesus would have spoken it was tangible. I heard it differently.

It is not how a pastor or teacher normally preaches or teaches whereby they choose particular sections of John 15, for example, to make points and thus, teach about John 15. Yesterday was John 15. It was Jesus’ entire, unbroken revelation about the Father and Himself coming from His heart to those blessed enough to hear Him and be drawn to Him. It is the entire lesson. He made no interpretation; he did not embellish a single thought; he did not say more or less than what was needed. Every word was infused with the Holy Spirit. It was living water.

For the first time I really understand the power of the Gospel as it was given to the early Christians. If 2000 years later I feel rattled by Christ’s words spoken by an actor/minister, how much greater was Jesus’ direct impact on the disciples who heard him every single day? How blessedly anointed and bathed they were in the Word by the Word and so affected that they could not keep it to themselves, like the Samaritan woman at the well who conversed with Jesus and ran off to tell her village she’d found Messiah.

I’d be very interested to know how other people responded. Was the dramatization effective more than momentarily? Did it make a lasting impression and convict hearts about prayer and worship? Did we leave desiring only to fall at the feet of the Lord and drown in His voice? Or was this just another church service spiced with a little l drama? Afterwards, did we seek out Jesus speaking John 15? Or take a nap after lunch at Pueblo Lindo?

Yeah, me too.