From The Sheep Pen

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Psalm 51:10

Three of them  came this morning. They pulled up onto the driveway in an oversized  truck and began to unload their special equipment: ladders which could reach to the top of the house, large buckets and stiff, bristled brushes that looked like fat porcupines. All three men wore black coats, trousers and sturdy work boots while two sported the trademark top hats of their ancient profession: chimney sweeps. One went to the back of the house, ostensibly to climb onto the roof and peer into the chimney for stuck birds or other nasty impediments. The older man and his son came into the house, headed for the fireplace and went to work. 

I wondered about soot and ash tracked on our light colored carpets, but these sweeps are pros – they left not a single spot anywhere. Additionally, they were finished with it all before you could say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! (Or spell it.)

I chatted with the older man for a while because I  was curious about the traditional outfits.  Who can forget Bert, the Chimney Sweep in “Mary Poppins” singing on the roof tops of old London while brandishing his brooms?  Dale (the father) said wearing them was just a lot of fun. They’re  often photographed and the business now included members of his family. I wondered. How many young boys dream of becoming chimney sweeps when they grow up? It seems like an anachronism  in today’s hyper technological, media dominated era. On the other hand, how else can chimneys be cleaned?

We talked about more personal matters. He had gotten Covid-19 and was just returning to work after seven weeks of being ill.  Recovery was slow and fatiguing as those of us who have had the virus know too well.  Somehow the  conversation turned to the vaccines and I’m not sure how or why, but I gave my primary reason for not getting one – the use of aborted cell lines in all of the vaccines, despite what  pharma  claims. He heartily agreed saying, “How can any Bible believing person endorse such a thing ? It’s just plain evil. Where is hope in that ?”  He looked around and out the window at the blessings we’re surrounded with.  “Every day I thank Jesus for what He did for us and how I get to live it out.  My hope? I read the book.” Yes, I said. “We know how it ends. Victoriously.”

After the men left I was both touched and convicted. It wasn’t about Covid or vaccines or even abortion.  Dale had passed the Gospel onto me as simply as breathing.  The message of Jesus’ salvation and life giving grace to those who accept him does not need eloquence, philosophical arguments or critical analysis.  When the heart is  filled with gratitude and humility, accepting that “ when we were still sinners, Christ died for us”  the abundance of His grace flows out  in rivers of living water.

For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. Matthew 12:34

This morning’s lesson came unexpectedly from a man who is probably blackened with soot by the end of the day and wearied from his labors. But out of his abundant heart, he preached the Gospel  and his witness is as white as snow. It doesn’t take great courage. It takes the right spirit,  remembering  the Father’s free gift to us  – Jesus, His precious Son. 

Maybe childhood dreams of becoming a chimney sweep aren’t so archaic after all.

He gives showers of rain to all people, and plants of the field to everyone. Zechariah 10:1

The rain came during the night. I heard its silky staccato  on the tin roof as I drifted onward into sleep which is so elusive again.  I heard it tap against the window and its wet, soft plopping onto the gravel around the house’s foundation.  I heard it in midnight’s black silent hour and welcomed it’s soothing rhythms.  “Finally”, I thought, “the rain’s come. The powder dry forest floor will get a good soaking and I won’t have to drag out the sprinklers as often and finally, the long hot summer is breaking up. Finally, another seasonal change is here. “ I listened to the rain’s  patter like the hum of an old lullaby and I finally dozed off.  

Morning came and it still rained. The summer palette changed overnight. Every tree and shrub glowed  a brighter green, a more vibrant yellow or crimson red.  Our neighbor’s aspens, sumac and  burning bush exploded with colors rivaling the  maples and oaks of the East coast. Even the scraggly underbrush on the hillsides shows off in the fall.  Massed clouds hung over the mountains already bearing snow in  tallest peaks. Fog trailed the valley in translucent veils of light and shadow. I watched the rain dripping from the eaves and rain chain and as the sun came out, falling rain looked like molten silver threads spun in the heavens. The first quenching autumn rain is a beautiful  blessing from the Lord.

The Bible talks a lot about rain. Biblical lands like Palestine and Judea were rocky and arid  wilderness, Rain meant not only survival but  abundance and blessing. Drought brought deprivation and was considered God’s  judgment on the people for their backsliding.  The Bible warns  about forgetting  God who provides His people and their land both spring and autumn rain in due time.

They do not say in their hearts, ‘Let us fear the LORD our God, who gives the rain in its season, the autumn rain and the spring rain, and keeps for us the weeks appointed for the harvest.’ Jeremiah 5:24

I have had both spring and autumn rains many times in my life. The former rain is the time of blossoming; the latter rain points to the harvest. The year turns as it must and what was is no more. I don’t know if tomorrow’s rains will be a deluge or just a light sprinkling. I do know that God is merciful, good and faithful and He does not close His hands of blessing to His beloveds. Sometimes I forget to acknowledge Jesus, to say in my heart thank you for every rain in its season. 

So today I intentionally look to Him, to Christ who is Lord of the Rain. Thank you for the  autumn rain  and how  you water  my bone dry heart again.

If I had to choose a single psalm as my last prayer on this planet before meeting the Lord forever, it might be Psalm 46. Of course, there are many other beautiful prayers, psalms and passages in Scripture but when I’m weary or troubled, this one has comforted and encouraged me countless times . It’s been said that Martin Luther was so inspired by Psalm 46 that around 1528 he wrote the hymn “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.”  That hymn which paraphrases  Psalm 46  has endured for almost 600 years. It speaks of the power of God’s Word when  music is born from  the Scriptures.

Christians (as well as those who are not) know the beginning of the 10^th verse:

Be still and know that I am God;

How often has a well meaning friend or pastor reminded you to “be still” when you‘re  filled with anxiety and  your mind races?  When your heart aches with loss or brokenness? When a hurtful conversation replays itself  endlessly to steal your rest?  When you don’t know what to do next,  verse 10 says it simply. Be quiet. God is nigh.

The idea of “being  still” is inherent  in pagan practices and mysticism.  Eastern mindfulness which the West has embraced like bees to nectar, instructs you to empty  your mind. Follow your thoughts and let them drift like leaves on a river. Relax and breathe deeply. Just focus inward to find your center, your god-ness.   The goal is to enter into nothingness and thus, enlightenment and Nirvana.

Before I knew the Lord when I was troubled, I’d try these suggestions to quiet my churning thoughts. But there were too many leaves to watch in the river.  They’d swirl away, only for more and more leaves to appear. I could never “be still” enough to actually be still. After the Lord got a hold of me, stillness and quiet was not about  relinquishing my mind to a vacuous nothingness but about increased, intimate awareness of God’s  loving Presence.  Nirvana is just another name for the hell of oblivion. Whereas  Eastern practices  seek to  deplete the soul, God’s Word fills up every crevice.

The problem with familiar scriptural verses is that they become too familiar and are often overused and taken out of context. When I don’t know what to say to a hurting friend, how helpful is it to offer just a slice of God’s Word without the whole loaf? I don’t think that Martin Luther would have written his majestic hymn if there wasn’t more to Psalm 46 than  the part we know so well. Psalm 46 describes stillness in terms of God, not of ourselves.  

 The verse says two things: Be still. Know that I Am God. We can’t address the former without  understanding the latter. Without knowing God, it’s impossible to be still no matter how mindfully we try.  The pagans miss the real point of stillness because their practice excludes God from the entire exercise. They are thus, given over to what they seek. Without God, the void is horribly, devastatingly empty. An abyss. I once looked into  it  and never want to return.

Psalm 46 is very clear about the God we’re to know. He’s revealed as the faithful, covenant fulfilling God of Jacob. He is the Lord of Hosts, the divine Commander of countless angelic armies. He is more powerful than earthquakes, floods and natural calamities.  He establishes His holy tabernacle in the City of God  through which the river of life flows. It will never be shaken. Despite the swelling rages and wars of earthly kingdoms against Him, God’s Voice destroys warfare and melts the earth. No mater what desolations we experience,  this is the God in whom (not in what)  we can take refuge and find strength.  Even though….( fire, war, famine, persecution. Fill in the blank)  …God is

….a  very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear…. Psalm 46:1-2

 It is only after the Psalmist uses the most powerful, evocative imagery to describe  God with Whom we’ve  nothing at all to fear,  that the Word then commands “ Be still and know that I am God. “ It comes almost at the end of the psalmist’s prayer. We can be still because we know the One Who is.

There is a last important point. Every word and every verse is about God.  God is to be exalted among all the nations and in all the earth. Being still and knowing the LORD is our obedient worship of Him for thus, He will be magnified in our hearts. It is also  points to Jesus  whose every thought and act reflected the Father’s will. Jesus would  glorify the Father by His obedience and sacrificial atonement and would  be glorified  at God’s right hand.  God’s divine exaltation in Psalm 46 echoes the  prophesy which Isaiah made .

… truth has gone out from My mouth, a word that will not be revoked: Every knee will bow before Me, every tongue will swear allegiance. Isaiah 45:23.

Jesus fulfills the ancient prayer and prophesy. .

… that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, Phil. 2:10

To be still is to bow our hearts before Jesus and know that He is God in the flesh. The stillness,  rest, quiet, peace and glorious joy which we experience in knowing Jesus is incomparable, indescribable  and blessed. It is a River of living water  “whose streams shall make glad the city of God.” What can pagan religions offer that comes even a nano millimeter close to such a promise?

I have hidden your word in my heart. Psalm 119:11

I recently read an interesting article on a website called “Table Talk”. * The author Reverend Geoffrey Thomas examines some of the qualities of the great preachers of the past and concludes that it is not only their sermons in church  which moved the congregations, but it is especially their public prayers before the people which moved hearts to Christ.  He identifies  Calvin’s “simplicity, God -centerdness, humility and yearning for God” and  Spurgeon’s being utterly  steeped in Scripture.   When Spurgeon prayed “the things that were given to him to utter in prayer were more often more profound and beautiful than the sayings that left his lips in preaching.” Neither preaching nor prayer has any power to heal or save or sanctify unless it is based on the Word. It does not have to be elaborate or lengthy or verbose. A single phrase from Jesus’ lips stilled the sea, multiplied bread for thousands and restored Peter. It still can.

Reverend Thomas quotes Paul in 1. Corinthians 14:19

I would rather speak five minds with my mind in order to instruct others, than ten thousand words in a tongue.

As I read Paul’s words, I was  struck with the apostle’s same  qualities of humility, simplicity and deep longing to preach the Gospel. Five little words, more or less, straight from God our Father, offered through Jesus’ unconditional  love and breathed by the Spirit have the power to transform every life and circumstance. Consider these few beautiful examples.

Behold, the Lamb of God. John 1:29

Your sins are forgiven you.Luke 7:48

Come, all who are thirsty. Isaiah 55.1

And the Word was God. John 1:1

God so loved the world John 3:16

Surely, I am coming quickly Rev 22:20

How much transformative power is held in so few words! Each one is a declaration  about God and about ourselves which  can bring us to our knees in tearful repentance, in loving adoration and  in humble thanksgiving.  Sometimes we can forget that every Word in Scripture is God breathed by the Holy Spirit, translations notwithstanding. The Bible in German or Greek or Russian would have different sentence structures and  phrasing, but the beautiful truth  of what Paul is saying does not change. Speaking even a little of Jesus,  by Jesus, about Jesus is the most powerful force on the planet. Five little words, more or less, are pearls without price. A library filled with scholarly dissertations on Scripture will never save a soul. Five little words of Scripture can. It’s really so simple.

Someone asked the question “How big is your Bible?” John Bunyan, author of  the Christian classic “The Pilgim’s Progress” often found an  “entire world in a single line of the Bible.” How can that be so? Do we not need the entire Bible of 66 books  from Genesis to Revelation as Christians?  As disciples, apologist, preachers and evangelists? Well, yes we do. But that begs the question. If like Bunyan we can find  the healing, salvation and peace of Jesus in a single Scriptural phrase, how big then does your Bible become? How many five word treasures lie within the pages of your Bible?

Yes, that is really, really BIG.

* https://tabletalkmagazine.com/posts/a-fresh-look-at-basics/

And the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and soul: Acts 4:32

Are you already weary this morning though it’s scarcely noon? In the storms of USA 2021, are you hungry for some  good news? Well, I have story to lift your spirits today and remind us of the providential God we serve. It’s a good one.

One of my dear friends Marlene (who was my Bible Study teacher} and her husband made the decision this summer  to leave McCall and move to Arkansas. Now I’m not sure of their reasons except they got tired of the long, cold,  snow dumping winters here, had lived in Arkansas  previously and had recently visited.  They’d been considering moving elsewhere for a number of years but always changed their minds because they also loved McCall.  But not in January.  She told me, “This year when the snow was still piled up around the house in May, I had enough and said to my husband,’ let’s move to Hot Springs’.” He agreed and the decision was made. Their house  sold very quickly and they found a new home in Hot Springs almost as fast.  A moving company was arranged, a huge deposit was made and they had a date to leave. I had lunch with her and two other women from our original Bible Study group because the move was going to be immediate. We laughed, cried and were happy for her because she and her husband  would be a blessing to all who met them. We all talked about their exciting new adventure. 

The story turns ugly. They drove to Arkansas last week fully expecting to arrive in time to meet the moving truck who’d help them unload. However, the truck  never showed up at their McCall home. Several days passed with no movers in sight and their deposit  gone. The new home owners became angry  because they couldn’t take possession of the house. They threatened to sue if the house wasn’t emptied by Sunday evening.  What a mess, right? My friends were desperate so a friend who’d heard about the problem offered  the use of a garage bay  for their belongings. She  suggested  they contact their church, Elk Creek, for help which they did.

Last Sunday afternoon church volunteers showed up to help so that by 6:00 everything was moved into  the garage. Neighbors watched and were amazed. My friend writes.” God’s love was on display on Woodlands Drive on Sunday.” And even better? The same generous friends  flew to Boise and  picked up two rental trucks to load up the furniture. They’ll leave tomorrow for Hot Springs.

This is not just a feel good story of an awful disaster which somehow turns out OK. It’s testimony of how the New Testament Church of Jesus is to be in the world.  The Lord commanded,

By this everyone will know that you are My disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:35

Jesus said everyone, that is the world, would know Whom we’re following by the nature of our love.  But there is an  if… If  we love as He loves us.  Love is neither sentimental nor selfish nor a feeling subject to an unreliable, biological  body.  Even today’s love obsessed pagans believe in  eros , love which sexual and solely self centered.   Jesus destroys that  notion. Christian love is unconditional. It is based on Jesus’ displaying the love of the Father, not on ourselves. It makes a choice to love another and that choice precedes  behavior and the actions we take as a result.  The early church understood how to live out  Christ’s commandment. So did Elk Creek Church last Sunday. Praise God for their obedience!

We’ll never know how many unbelievers this story will touch in our Jerusalem and in Marlene’s new Samaria.  We’ll never know how many lost, hopeless and broken souls find God’s love and grace as my friend  shares her story with strangers. May the harvest be to God’s glory.

Oh and the moving company? They’ve disappeared, but the funds for the  deposit are back in my friends’ account.

I can’t say it better than Marlene. “ Can you believe the story? Only God can arrange these things and make something wonderful out evil.” Amen and amen. I can’t wait for the next  chapter.

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It is morning  in August and filled with grey smoke smudging the mountains and sky overhead. Summer fires the size of small states burn in the Northwest  which is tinder dry from lack of rain. I notice a tiny, darker-hued spot darting between the trees. It is a hummingbird which then settles on the tip of a snag and blends like a pine cone into the branches.  Other  birds  come daily to  the feeder on the deck  so I won’t take down the mylar strips fluttering from the windows. I taped the rainbow reflecting strips to the windows earlier in spring  because  birds were crashing into the glass.  

Year after year I sit here at the dining table in the mornings to write. The landscape has not changed much in those years. Even with the seasonal changes, it is very, very familiar to me. Trees, birds and flowers in summer; snow, clouds and shades of winter grey  in January.  Nevertheless, my 4 inch  “square  of perception” is vaster than all the acres of forest  around our house. A small focus is neither  ho hum nor empty. I seek  God in the details.

There comes  a memory. My aged father is here visiting us from New York.  He sits on the deck holding a finch which crashed into the window. The bird is stunned from the impact but still alive. Pop’s calloused hands are wrinkled and scarred from a  life time of working with wood. His thumbs are thick and flattened, like  chisels at the end of his hand.s He patiently warms the bird in his hands, feeling its tiny racing heart until there’s a flutter and the bird flies off.

It is a vignette I’ve never forgotten because I was jealous of that little bird. The trembling broken creature being restored within powerful but gentle hands is the cry of the heart. Do we not all long for such unasked for love, patience and protection? Don’t we shed silent tears for our fathers whom we did not know could be so gentle?  Why do we never think to ask  for love when we too crash into unseen windows and end up with broken wings? I never did.

My father is long since gone but this memory brings me solace for I saw something in him  that could only have come from Our Perfect Father – gentleness,  patience, attentiveness and above all  healing love. The Holy Spirit showed me to look beyond the obvious even in seasons when I could not have said it was so.

Jesus used the illustration of the  ordinary sparrow to teach how the Father sees us, watches over us  especially when we’re afraid or heartbroken.  Why?  Because the One who knows every star and planet  in the cosmos knows our name.  He’s inscribed us into the palm of His hands and holds us fast because of Jesus. The Father’s Eye may be on the sparrow but it is you and I He watches over with tender mercies.   We are of infinitely greater value than any number of sparrows.

Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them forgotten by God. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.… Luke 12:6

Jesus opened His earthly ministry claiming the words  of Isaiah 61:1. Jesus brings the good news to the world and the prophetic promises of the Father.   He came to  “bind up  the brokenhearted  and to proclaim liberty to the captives.” He came to hold our broken bodies, minds and spirits in His hands  nailed to  the cross, to die for our transgressions and thus, we fly free. He still does. We still can.

…but what I do have I give you.  Acts 3:6

There are several special  accounts in the Bible to which I’m drawn over and over.  At different times and in different seasons, the Holy Spirit has a way of unraveling yet another layer of the Scriptures. I sometimes half jokingly think of Him as the Great Onion Peeler, privately of course. Not so jokingly, when He does that, more often than not  tears do flow.

The story of the healing of the lame beggar by Peter and John at the Gate Beautiful  is one of these stories. I think of the lame man  being carried daily  to his spot at the gate to the temple. He knows the routine, where to set up  his ragged mat and how to badger the throngs going into the temple to pray. He has his begging bowl ready. Maybe this day he’d receive enough alms to survive – to come back tomorrow. Then Peter and John walk by and suddenly everything changes. Instead of receiving a pittance for tomorrow, the man receives new life.  He is healed in body, mind and spirit.

It is such a perfect, joyous miracle! Instant transformation! Dancing and leaping instead of groveling on the ground.  Instead of a worn alms cup rattling with a few coins, his heart overflows with praise for God. The Word says he walked into the temple with Peter and John. Forty years old, he probably enters the temple for the first time in his life. He no longer has to be carried by his friends to the same old dusty spot and dreary existence.

Yesterday our pastor used this text to teach about the Holy Spirit’s empowerment. I  heard with my ears and listened with my mind. “Yes and yes, “ I thought. “I love this story about….and isn’t it a good message for…and that’s great teaching  and insight.” But then it became personal,  without my permission even! It spoke to painful family difficulties with one of our daughters and my own heart. 

Why does God put  persons in  our lives who constantly need help, who can’t seem to get up and walk on their own, never mind leap and dance?  I do not know the answer. They’re ok for a while and then something else happens to derail them. They need help and they need the help NOW.  Sound familiar? Too painfully familiar?  I’m very aware of natural  consequences and  unhealthy enabling and not doing for someone else what they can do for themselves. This is about God’s Word saying, “Listen up. There’s more going on. Apply My Word to yourself first.”

In the text, the lame man was carried by others right back to the same spot he’d always been carried to most of his life. The only thing he expected was more of the same: either being ignored or getting a few coins. But Peter fixed his eyes on the beggar and made eye contact.

Look at us. So he gave  them his attention, expecting to receive something from them. Acts 3.

Before Peter offered the lame beggar the immaterial riches of Jesus, His love, compassion, forgiveness, patience and  hope, he looked at him. That is, Peter saw the man as a person, not just as another one of thousands of beggars. Peter and John discerned what the man really needed – his broken condition. The healing was manifested by Peter’s total act of faith and he who was once a beggar received far more than the bare alms he held a bowl for.   

Our family member  is like the lame man in the story, expecting  some quick fix alms to survive because that’s all she’s asked for and received.  Communication is a routine that’s broken, lifeless  and useless.  Too often, I don’t want to pick up the phone to listen to the latest drama, let alone fix my heart’s eyes on her. 

The world’s silver and gold are not the answer. The answer is always Jesus. What I cannot, He can. What is lacking in my heart, He overflows. What I can’t see, His eyes always hold fast.  What seems impossibly broken, He will heal and restore. When faith falters and I’ve no idea what to do next, the Comforter promises to  guide and empower. And comfort.

Who needs silver and gold any way? By faith in God’s Word, I believe there are leaping and dancing miracles waiting  at the Gate Beautiful  of the Holy Spirit.

El  Condor Pasa*

But those who wait upon the LORD will renew their strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31

A month or so ago my husband and I went to Salt Lake for a short visit with our daughter and family. It was my birthday and a good  excuse to make the  tedious eight hour trip.  We wanted to spend time with our two grand daughters who are growing up far too quickly for this Oma. Apart from the small cities dotting Highways 86  and 84, we drove through  mostly  dry landscapes of pale green sage brush, junipers, striated buttes  and occasional sheep grazing.

 Daughter Lisa is always energetic, makes sure we don’t get bored and usually plans for us to visit local attractions. This time she suggested going to the Tracy Aviary in Liberty Park located close by. After the severe windstorm in 2020  which took out a large portion of the park’s trees, the aviary was expanded and is open again for visitors. We had a very delightful half day admiring the birds , from tiny back yard birds to owls, ibis, flamingos, North American eagles, colorful macaws and brooding, hunched over vultures.

I was mesmerized by “Andy” the magnificent  Andean condor which is the largest bird of prey in the world. The condor originates in South America, is the national symbol of several countries and the stuff of myths. According to the information given, this condor (a type of vulture)  has a wingspan  over ten feet long, can fly up to 18,000 feet and  nests on the most inaccessible crags and ledges.  It can live seventy years or longer and has no natural enemies.  Most fascinating to me is that the condor will flap it enormous wings to attain soaring altitude, but thereafter, it scarcely  moves its wings again, perhaps only once an hour – if observed at all. It is born  to rise to mountainous heights, soar effortlessly  and dwell there.

And yet here was Andy in a cage scarcely large enough for him  to spread out his wings!   He was almost hidden among the rocks and tree limbs which decorate most of the bird enclosures.  Meant to fly close to the heavens, he’d never fly again and seemed shrunken.  In his confined space he was merely another bird. I was seeing  a pale version of the condor flying free over the Andes mountains.  Please understand.  I am not being critical of the bird’s current habitat or the dedicated conservationists who provide for him. Without their efforts and care, I would never have seen a condor “beak to beak”, so to speak.    It was an inspiring visit and subsequent lesson.

As children of God are we not exponentially more magnificent and precious in God’s eyes than this pinnacle of feathers and wings? Did God not create us in His own image and likeness and breathe life into our nostrils at creation to carry His divine image?  We who are fearfully and wonderfully made should remember that nowhere in Scripture is this said of any other of God ‘s creatures. Fallen, redeemed and reborn in the Lord, we’re transformed to soar close to the heavens while walking on the ground humbly as Jesus did on earth.  The paradox is in  Jesus: He offers us the freedom of the heavens while asking us to  remain and abide only in Him.  We don’t even have to flap by our own efforts.  Held by the Lord we can soar beneath the shadow of Holy Wings which move unseen for us.

I wonder. Are you and I truly free like this? Or do we return to cages so constricting we can’t extend our arms upwards to pray:  cages of fear or deception or unforgiveness? Crouched in dark enclosures of self pity, hatred and condemnation?  We shuffle into cages, locking  the door behind us and brood.  Even after decades of knowing God’s Love and Truth in my heart, I sometimes crawl back into places like that and forget who I am, who God made me to be, who Jesus died to redeem and set free, whom the Father loves as His child.   

God has given us sparrows and eagles and condors to ponder as the praiseworthy work of His hands. Like them, I long to soar on wind currents.  I long to be up there or out beyond where Andy the condor once flew. I long for my whole being to be free of whatever tries to drags me back into the cage . Unlike the condor, Christians do have an enemy who preys on us and never wants us out of confinement.   

Jesus promised that He would provide for us. He would not leave us  helpless and hopeless and imprisoned.   The Spirit would come  to teach us all things. Including soaring.

And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Advocate to be with you forever—John 14:6

Is it not the breath, the wind of the Holy Spirit who  provides the empowering lift, the height and the breadth of all that’s  needed?  The one thing required of us is to step in faith out of the shadows and through  caged doors. They were never locked.

* The Condor Passes. A song written in 1913 by Peruvian composer Daniel Alomia Robles. It’s based on an Andean folk melody and became popular with  Simon and Garfunkle’s  1970 version.

My beloved is mine, and I am his.. Song 2:16

My favorite cousin Annie was a happy, cheerful soul. The minute she walked into a room, the atmosphere changed as if a refreshing breeze  had blown in from an opened window.  One of Annie’s most endearing traits was her use of pet names for people. Boys and men were “Handsome”; the women were always  “Gorgeous.” When Annie saw me, she’d  embrace me with a “Hello, Sunshine!” I would bask in her  words  the rest of the day. Who would not feel handsome or gorgeous or like sunshine in Annie’s  presence? It was her gift to family and friends. 

Pet names in families are used for children or those we love and hold dear.  Some names are so silly and foolish  outside of our most intimate  relationships, they’d be cringeworthy. Lovers call each other the goofiest names. It might be  Sweetcheeks, Dumpling, Babe or Cupcake or even something insulting.  My Mexican “daughter”  Silvia was always Gorda” to her  sweetheart and family, but she  never took offense. None was intended.

In my German family pet names were usually diminutives of given names, so Josef, Anton and Elizabeth naturally became “Sepp(i), Toni, and Lisi.” (My name didn’t lend itself to such endearing dimunition  ). Sometimes –chen  or –le added to a special word makes it even more precious:  Schatz (treasure) becomes Schätzle,  Puppe (doll),  Puppchen , Herz (heart) Herzchen.  I don’t remember my parents using  pet names  openly with us when we were young, but later when the grandchildren came along, it was different. Pete’s three young kids were “The Hurricane” as they stormed through my mother’s tidy home.  When we visited from Idaho, our children were their  Enkelkinder or  Englein (little angels.)

When my mother had several strokes and was failing, I flew to New York to help out. Several nights as my parents were preparing for bed, I heard my father whispering to Mom, calling her his Schäfel (lamb.) I was dumbfounded. I’d never heard Pop say something so lovingly intimate to Mom.  It was as if I had  a glimpse of  their youth, their courting days  when Mom was his 18 year old sweetheart, when he had a lover’s  name for her.  I may never have heard my father express himself this way before,  but the pet name  had been in his heart for over seventy years. Mom was and would always be  Schäfel to him.

If we have special names for those we love, so does God. One of my favorite references in the Bible is how the Lord called Israel, His chosen people, “the apple of His eye.” It’s a reference to the eye’s pupil which gathers in the perfect amount of light the eye needs. Just as the pupil is extremely vulnerable and needs protection from harm, infection or damage, so has God put the Jews – and us through Jesus – into  the very center of His  all seeing protection. Scripture tells how God chose Israel as His portion to protect  and keep.

“He found him in a desert land, and in the howling waste of the wilderness;  he encircled him, he cared for him,  he kept him as the apple of his eye. Deut. 32:10

David prays  for this special protection from his enemies:

Keep me as the apple of your eye. Hide me under the shadow of your wings.  Psalm  17:8

When we know we are protected, we also understand how deeply loved we are. The “Song of Songs” is the Bible’s  effusive, poetic song for  and about lovers. It is here in God’s Word where the Lord  reveals His passionate love for His children, His people. and the New Testament Church. The Shulamite  and the Beloved call out to us for intimacy with our God in language filled with lover’s  imagery and language spoken only in the secret place. Peruse the seven chapters and search out where God’s pet name for you is hidden. Are you God’s gazelle, His  rose of Sharon,   His  handsome beloved or His  fair dove?  He who knew you before you were born, who formed you in your mother’s womb and who has inscribed you  on the palm of His Hand, surely also names you for those intimate times when you’re stripped bare before HIm. Ask the Lord to reveal His special name for you, how you are “the apple of His eye” and so much more. Don’t be surprised at His answer! You knew it all along.

Yesterday might have been the first one.

I was outside  a McCall shop admiring  the beautiful gardening goodies and ran into an acquaintance I’ve known cordially for years. We chatted for a bit, and then mindful of healthy protocols, I masked up. She waved me off. “Don’t bother. We’re outside.” Then she added with conviction, “ You’ve gotten your second shot, right?” Oops.  No, I responded. I haven’t. Not going to. Bigger Oops! The conversation became frigid   and awkward very quickly as she pointedly told me the rules for entering inside the store.  My attempts to keep it friendly weren’t successful and when I left, the whole bizarre incident made me realize that I’d  become a non vaccinating pariah. The woman did not know my reasons for not vaxxing and I didn’t tell her. It’s between me and God.

Truthfully, I left  angry and decided not to do business there in the future. I’d conjured  up good  reasons for staying angry, venting to my husband.   How in the world is it ok to ask another person about their vaccination decisions when HIPPA safeguards the privacy of health information? In flu seasons would it have been conceivable to ask whether we’d gotten a flu shot before we entered an establishment? Or diptheria immunization? Or mumps?  Of course not.  We wouldn’t have felt anyone but our doctors had a right to such info. How that has  changed!  Today people have no compunction about asking about and sharing their personal vaccination decisions. It’s the crazy, acceptable norm to do so and the underpinning of social interactions very often through intimidation, even within families.  We distance socially  and then invade the most precious space of all – conscience.

It was in my conscience  that the Lord dealt with my self righteous anger. Soren Kierkegard calls it the place where the Eye of God never ceases to see me  and where I become fully aware of His loving, inescapable “seeing.”  He alone knows what is in my heart, especially when yesterday I felt judged and rejected  by a “friend.”  I entertained a lot of old, unredeemed thoughts. Well, I’ll just show her/him/them a thing or two!  I’ll stomp my foot and slam the door on the way out.

It’s not the Christian response. Jesus, who was exponentially more misjudged, abused, abandoned and condemned as a  pariah than I’ll ever be, prayed on  that tortuous cross,  “Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing.” As His disciples, we are called to  love and forgive our enemies, however they show up.   We’re asked to preach the Gospel to the lost and deceived, especially in our own local Samaria.  How will my refusing to encounter this woman in her business  witness  to  Christ’s love and salvation message?  How will hanging on to anger and pride bless the other person with hope for tomorrow? Perhaps civil discourse in a very uncivil setting is exactly how the Lord will pierce our hearts with His grace,  His mercy and His love. Perhaps the next time I can share the reasons for my choice. We may not agree, but it’s a starting point for loving one another.  God will do the rest.

This won’t be an isolated incident as the controversies over vaccination ramp up all over the world and it demands that we give account. With the Lord’s help, I want to be ready the next time for a divine  encounter through Him,  not  participate in a confrontation sanctioned by the devil.