His Simplicity

Though His book foretold it, the virgin birth didn’t fit the theology of the Pharisees.

Coming as an infant wasn’t a good enough image for a King;

They wanted pomp and splendor, decrees for their nation to glorify the priests.

But You came in humility, clothed with rags and born in a shelter.

The only ones who knew were those who brought you to life,

and those our Father prophesied to through the stars.

Those who studied Your Word didn’t recognize You.

In fact, they opposed You because You were too kind, too full of grace.

Their desire was for a despot who would overthrow their nation’s enemies.

And Your desire was—and is—to overthrow the enemy of their (and our) hearts.

Your kingdom doesn’t look like their understanding,

So they rejected it—then and still.

But You spurn them not.

You intercede for them—those You called Your people—

And those who came under Your cloak, as Ruth did with Boaz.

You are our Kinsman Redeemer, the One sent to save the world.

Your robes are humble and unattractive in appearance to our eyes.

But we cannot see the splendor that heaven does,

For our eyes are not yet fully opened.

The sound of heaven is intensely busy, some preparing for the arrival of many,

While others shine their battle dress and sharpen their weapons for the coming conflict.

There has never been a war like the one looming ahead…

How extraordinary that You have called the weak things of this world—

Your servants—to confound the wise.

How utterly fantastic that You have changed our name from “servant” to “friend,”

From outcast to chosen child.

 

Yet You are the real Sign and Wonder. 

The knowledge of You is what we seek and what our hearts cry out to grasp.

For Your magnificence is not obvious to the theologians,

Nor is Your power and glory yet manifesting in predictable ways.

But Your love is what overwhelms and transforms us.

Its strength is far greater than any weapon,  

And far more expansive than that of any nation.

Your love is sheltering, yet pushes us onward to do great things.

It is inspiring and undergirding, overwhelmingly full of grace

And fulfilling strategies that not even the greatest scholar of Your Word can predict.

Your love is the royalty that we seek, the power that we long to know.

Your glory is filled with it and Your kingdom breathes it.

No one can escape it except through death,

Which You already fulfilled so we can receive life for eternity.

Reveal Yourself, oh King, to the learned as well as to the simple.

Show the priests and wise men that You are far beyond their minds‘ reach,

That You reveal Yourself to children and Your plans to Your Beloved.

Dissolve our independence so that me may run to you,

Falling on both knees in deference to Your greatness.

Let us no longer hold others back by the limits our understanding places on You;

Help us to spur one another on to know You more and more.

Pull Your children close,

So that we may gaze upon Your splendor, wonderful Messiah!

His Power is Real

I dreamed that I heard a voice saying, “Doom and gloom,” and saw a large olive tree branch that looked old and very dead.  I prayed and asked God for joy, and suddenly the branch became alive and—one by one—was filled with beautiful, bright and differently colored birds, chirping away.  I felt the Lord’s power all around them, the power that created heaven and earth.  How great is our God!

Steppin’ Out

Wooossshhhh…  That’s the sound of breath leaving my lips.  Sometimes it’s challenging being a woman in ministry.  And for those of you in the workforce—especially in male-dominated professions—I  know it can be at least as complex.  (For men reading this, I hope this subject won’t put you off, but will intrigue you!)

I can honestly say that I’ve done some research, but not nearly enough on the subject of women in leadership.  Having been in leadership in the marketplace and in ministry, I find the problems are slightly different but still based on a concept that women shouldn’t lead men.  This is—to say the least—a “sticky wicket.” 

However, trying to determine the Biblical correctness of women in leadership doesn’t seem cut and dry.  Having been in close quarters with some extraordinarily powerful women leaders in the marketplace and in ministry, I just can’t say that they’re missing the Lord’s mark by doing what they do.  In fact, few men currently can keep pace with some of them.  And oddly enough, some male leaders who oppose women leaders in ministry have allowed women to “share” from their pulpits.  So far, I haven’t heard of anyone being struck by lightning or dying of a sudden heart attack for having allowed such a thing, but the odd thing is, these same leaders went back to default position as soon as that particular woman had finished, and continued the ban on women leading congregations in word and deed.   

As I said, this is a quagmire that, as far as I know, has yet to be satisfactorily resolved.  And sadly, if you’re hoping for answers here, I’m sincerely sorry to say that I don’t have any.  What I do have are concerns that anyone would try and hold back another person powerfully-equipped (by God), from doing what He has called them to do, such as Biblical figures Deborah the judge and Priscilla the home-group leader with her husband, Aquila (a paradox because in the days the correspondence from the disciples were written, women’s names were always mentioned following their husbands’—except in this case).

I’m reminded of a wonderful saint born two centuries ago—Maria Woodworth Etter.  As a thirty-something farmer’s wife, since her teens she had sensed God telling her to begin preaching.  However, she steadily refused—on the grounds that she was an uneducated woman whose husband would not approve of such a thing and because she was a mother whose children needed her.  However, after five of her six children died and the farm completely failed to produce, the Lord’s desire for her won out.  She began to be invited to speak in churches, and quickly became a popular preacher—and traveled  throughout the Midwestern US doing revival meetings.  Though her husband had joined her in the ministry, after a few years he tired of tromping after her and began seeing another woman.  After his infidelity became public (due to newspaper reports), Maria filed for divorce.

As she continued to follow the Lord’s call on her life, the anointing He gave her for healing and leading people to Him steadily increased, as did the results—people being healed in greater and greater numbers, and more importantly, a huge spike of lost souls coming into the kingdom at her meetings.  Though this is arguable, I know, it seems that God approved her decision to continue.  She has gone down in history as one of America’s great turn-of-the-century preachers and was an inspiration to other historical figures who became internationally-known spiritual leaders, such as FF Bosworth, John G. Lake and Smith Wigglesworth.

I believe that in these chaotic times, many are unwilling to be vocal about their faith and want to just get along with everyone—although this isn’t the model Jesus or His disciples gave us.  deeply sense the urgency of this age, and feel the time has arrived for everyone available—regardless of gender—to openly tell others of their eternal hope.  When a ship is facing a battle or emergency, this cry emerges:    ”All hands on deck!” Everyone drops what they’re doing and immediately runs to battle stations.  The Lord’s return is looming ever closer and I believe He’s quite happy to have His daughters fly into action to serve Him however and wherever and whenever He deems appropriate—opposed because of their gender or not.  Rather than trying to prevent them from doing so by saying it’s not Biblical, I believe the Lord would have us commend and even egg others on to do the same—allowing the Lord to determine who shall lead as we willingly run after Him, our Supreme Leader.  The clarion call to leave our daily concerns and seek the Lord for His heavenly ones is here.  Man (pun intended) the torpedoes, full speed ahead!

CONQUEST: EPIC DAY
In the stillness of a cold spring dawn,
drop after drop of crimson agony
fell to the brown, caked ground
below the towering pine poles that
bore the most infamous King to ever live.

There was never a greater silence
than the earth’s collective gasp
when her Creator took His last human breath
while on her surface.

Angelic forces stood tense at every level,
completely filling all available space, surrounding
this place of desolation with raw energy
as all of heaven’s forces with tortured gazes looked on
the One they adored as He hung in
the worst humiliation His greatest enemy could devise.

And His most beloved friends and family 

stood by—impotent, scared, absolutely empty.
Feelings of complete abandonment,
hopelessness and despair
raged desperately in their searching hearts.
They could only wonder why He left them…
And there were no answers at that moment.


But then there was a small tremor,
followed by a greater one.
The droplet-drenched earth split open
to receive the royal blood
that spilled upon its surface,
hungrily swallowing it before
it could be defiled any further.


And the heavy, thick curtain that
covered the place of His Presence
began to loudly tear, ripping in
half in a way that no human could manage
as His presence began
to once again fill the galaxy.


The royal Lion’s silent roar was felt by
every body that lay in its grave in that
sorrowful city at that unforgettable moment.
Long-since dead followers
of their yet-unborn King began to awaken.
They rose from their tombs as
portents of what was yet to come.


Everyone in the city ran to hide.
No one could deny what was happening.
It was not normal. It was not explainable.
It was death’s victory—the Answer to
every question had just died.
But now the sudden baffling events began to
overtake the saddest moment
that ever occurred on the earth’s surface.

No one alive in human form—
not even the very offspring of the Creator—
could explain what was taking place
before their eyes and in their ears.
They were stymied into silence.
The overwhelming sorrow was
being replaced by terror and confusion.

Who was that Man?
Why did His death cause a shadow
to fall across the sun?
What blanket of darkness could
cover the brightness of His love—
the very act of complete sacrifice
that nothing else could heretofore accomplish?
He had won the final victory.
There were no more scenes in the play.

His sworn enemy could not believe
what his nefarious scheme was
becoming.
His greatest triumph was quickly being overthrown
as his most overwhelming defeat loomed before him.
And he knew there yet more ahead.
He could never win.
His punishment was empty and loathsome.
The crucifixion replaced
the need for death that
his temptations caused.
It was finished…then and there.

Now the whole creation impatiently
quakes and groans, eagerly anticipating
His offspring’s enthusiastic embrace of
the inheritance He—the living God, the One
Whose blood was enveloped in its cracks— bought for them:
“Step up, brothers and sisters. The time has come.”

Needing Help, Calling on the Answerer

Most of the time, I go charging ahead, shirttail flapping in the breeze, without a care in the world as I get to live out my dreams.  But sometimes, seemingly more frequently now than in the past, I’m pulled up short by someone else’s words or actions.  Once in awhile, the word is a kind or encouraging one that makes me pause and be thankful that I’m on the right path.  But more often than not, the words come as a disheartening and discouraging surprise.

I see through those words—or a raised eyebrow with a scowling eye on the opposite side and downturned lips below—that someone is disturbed by something I’ve done or said.  Very few times can I just keep moving forward when this happens, but sometimes I recognize that the sharpness has nothing to do with me and is just a reflection of the others’ negativity or sour mood.

On the rest of the occasions, I find myself before our King, asking if I’ve done something wrong—or blaming the other person for being in the wrong.  When I feel wronged, I often go on tirades to Him, telling Him what’s wrong with them, why they’re wrong and asking for Him to sort them out.

Once in awhile, I actually discover that He brought someone else correction, but more frequently, He sorts ME out (maybe you can relate?!).  I discover old wounds that have formed crusty, thickened scars inside my heart, or even fresher ones that are oozing with infection.  And I must open myself up to my Healer and say, “Here I am again, and I need surgery.  Please cut out the rotten parts and replace them with new ones that aren’t so riddled with darkness.”

He’s so kind and faithful, always loving.  He doesn’t chide me for being like a continually-errant child, but encourages me by saying that He’s so in love with me and so happy that I need Him to help me.  He never tires of my tales of hurt feelings or cries for help.  Just today, as I was pouring out my heart, I saw a “picture” in my mind’s eye, of me climbing up a rocky mountain-side—my Beloved Jesus right beside me.  I would slip, and He would grab me, preventing me from falling.  Or I would start to move too quickly and fall backward.  And—you guessed it—He was right there, hands up and on my back, shoulder s pressed against me so that I wouldn’t topple.  What kind of friend can always be so available —or even wants to be so helpful when we frequently mess up?  His faithfulness always surprises me, but less so than His abiding love.  He truly overlooks my wrongs so frequently, just waiting for me to come running (or crawling) and asking Him to help.  And it’s then that I’m face to face with my sinfulness and He’s there to pick up the pieces.

As difficult as it is, I’m thankful for the parts of life that cause me to stick close to my Maker.  These are opportunities to draw underneath the enormously powerful arms that shadow me from harm and keep me warm when the world feels cold.  As the prince of this world chases after us and tries repeatedly to knock us down, trip us, or just plain kill us, it’s an amazing feeling to know that my Hero never fails me and always wins.  He makes the battle all worthwhile, and knowing that He can go inside and treat what’s broken—no matter how long it has been that way—is deeply encouraging.   Even when I’m wrong, He helps me to find the truth and makes me feel loved and forgiven as quickly as I recognize it.

We’re getting ready to see the enemy of this world and of God’s creatures be trounced by the greatest Light that ever was or will be.  To know this in times of darkness is like being cared for as a small bud growing in dry and rocky soil.  He waters and feeds us; indeed, He takes better care of us than the best vineyard owner.  We are His investment and He won’t settle for anything less than stellar returns on us—guaranteed returns to what was given us as a new-birthright. 

What If I Don’t Feel Like It?

I’ve heard of people who arose every day at 4 am to pray for three hours—but I’ve yet to meet one!  Honestly, I can’t imagine doing this!  And though I have a “God day” once a week, this isn’t a day I dedicate to praying for others, but for spending time with my Hero, my Beloved, my Everything.    But I do sometimes find Him reminding me to pray for others on those days, rather than just for things I’m struggling with or rejoicing over.  (My favorite way to spend a God day is trying to grasp a mystery of the King of the universe—such as how He created the earth in such a way that it sits on an axis in outer space and doesn’t fall off!)

I sometimes feel guilty for not praying more than I do, but then I realize if it becomes hard—or a yoke—then it’s doubtfully from the Lord; feeling self-important or religious just doesn’t make me feel closer to Him.  However, there is something that prompts me to pray like clockwork—even for just a few short minutes.  The culture in which I live has a reminder five times daily to pray, which has also provoked me to pray more often.  I try to speak to the Lord—or better yet, just rejoice in His amazing love and wonders—when I hear this voice singing nearby, morning, noon and night.  Granted, I can’t always hear it, depending on where I am and where that voice is coming from, but I often do and try to stop what I’m doing—even for just a minute—to tell the Lord how wonderful He is, how much I love Him, how much I know He’s working on the earth.  I don’t want to make it into a big deal and try to sound holy or religious—it’s just my way of “speaking life” where I am, over the people I see every day, over the nation I live in. 

On one occasion, I was dragging myself upstairs to play my guitar and sing a worship song, and when I sat down to play, the Lord spoke, “If you think you’re doing this for me, you’re mistaken.  I don’t need you to worship Me.  But you need to do it for your own spirit to be refilled.”  I was shocked!  Here I was thinking I was doing the “right” thing by praying or worshiping along with the “call to prayer” when I discovered that worshiping our King a few times a day—even if just for a minute—actually filled my spirit.  Though I wasn’t consciously trying to impress Him, subconsciously, that’s exactly what I was doing.  And of course, He wasn’t impressed—He just knew I needed to worship Him in order to feel closer to Him!

Now when I hear that familiar voice praying in a foreign, unfamiliar language, I try to remember my need to pray and rejoice in Him…because He’s worthy and wonderful, and my spirit needs to be able to tell Him so in order to thrive.  For those who don’t have that reminder several times a day, I hope something causes you to sing (even just in your head) His praises.  I once met someone who had an alarm on his watch that went off two times daily just for that purpose!  Taking a minute in stress-filled lives to meet with our Creator is a great encourager in a discouraging world!

“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”   (1 Peter 2:9)

Through It All

Through it all, You were there.

When I was a broken, misguided teenager, You were there...

Your arm wrapped around my sullen shoulders.

You drew me into Your glorious heart and transformed me.

And when I strayed, searching for a depth I hadn’t yet discovered—to be found only in You—

You were there, wanting to help, but giving me the freedom to fail.

When I harbored only anger, unforgiveness and ambition in my heart,

You were there beside me…waiting for me to find Your grace.

When I sought answers from the New Age, You were there…

Weeping with the knowledge of how far I was straying.

When I sought comfort in the arms of others, You were there…

Sitting patiently, knowing the end from the beginning—

and loving me through the middle.

When I came to the place where I knew my life was a hopeless shambles,

You were there, holding my sobbing face against your shoulder, encompassing me in Your love.

When I finally recognized I could go no further and that You were the Answer,

You were there, leaping and dancing around me,

Your joy turning my darkness into an incomprehensible light.

When I chased after You, Holy Spirit, You were there,

Responding with a continual outpouring of glory and truth…my Answer.

When I become disillusioned with people, you are here,

Reassuring me that my prayers for them are reaping answers.

When I become fed up and frustrated by my own dark heart, You are here,

leading me to the door of repentance and Your loving, forgiving embrace.

When I enthusiastically lunge forward, thinking I can be of some help to You,

You are here, joyfully lunging with me, keeping me from falling on my face,

And urging me to keep in step with You, the humble Servant.

You were there then and You are here now,

My Beloved, You are ever-present and ever-wonderful .