Come Away...

Storm Chaser Kid

There was a storm last night. Our fried telephone, garage door opener, internet connection, box fan, Xbox and printer are living (or should I say dead) proof that the lightning was fierce. And right when it all began, my mother and I were swimming in Lake Michigan.

We had attempted to ignore the thunder, but after the first lightning bolt struck we decided that it might be a good idea to get out of the water. We headed up to a bench on the bluff to eat PB&J (it's a tradition) and watch the storm roll in.

I noticed a camera set up on a tripod at the edge of the bluff. It pointed toward the lighthouse in anticipation of the coming storm. A young man in his late teens was parked in front of us, his Jeep sporting a license plate that stood for "South Haven storm chaser."

He was serious business.

Or at least he felt like he was.

A weather radio was attached to his car, and through the static we listened to the dull voices of weathermen forcasting impending doom while we calmly ate our sandwiches and watched the sky light up with bolts. My mother asked him questions like, "What do you do when it starts to rain?"

"Oh, my camera gets wet. It's sealed," he replied confidently. He even showed us some of the bolts that he had captured during last week's storm.

When the radio sounded the thunderstorm warning alert, we decided to hightail it back home. Weather boy, however, laid back in the grass and waited for the action to begin.

Ten minutes later we drove back by. Even the confident storm chaser had decided to bring his camera into his car after the seventy mile-per-hour winds, torrential downpour and constant flashes of lightning began.

This morning I was laughing to myself as I remembered his "cool as a cucumber" attitude about what was about to happen. Yes, his camera may have been sealed, but I don't think he was prepared to keep it from blowing off of the bluff and down to the beach below.

My laughter stopped when I realized that storm chaser kid and I have a lot in common. I pride myself in the fact that I'm not really afraid of anything, yet when something treacherous heads my way, I tend to worry constantly. Even when I have no doubt that I'm prepared to take anything, somehow I always seem to crumble under the weight of the world.

This is not, however, a hopeless business. Paul puts it this way in 2 Corinthians 12:9-

"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."

When I am at my worst is when Jesus can prove Himself to be everything that He has promised to be. This is all about Him anyway, right? If I think that I, replete with every kind of weakness, am strong enough to face this world and everything that comes my way on my own, I am in for a very rude awakening.

Oh, but to experience the strength that comes when we come to the end of ourselves and allow His sufficient grace to abound to us. Don't try to face the storm in your own strength, my friend. Life is too short not to grab a hold of His.

The "Duck"

I just finished a five hour stint with a family that I've been watching a few days each week this summer. While I did consider going to bed, since it will only be nine hours until I'm walking through their door once again, I decided to share a story with you instead.

The three year-old had just been tucked into bed when he emerged with a look on his face that said, "There is a matter on my mind of utmost importance."

"I need my duck," he said simply. The "duck," as he affectionately calls it, is his two-legged, stringy-haired platypus, and I was very familiar with it, as it was my saving grace one day when he had a half-hour weeping fest.

But that is a different God story for a different time.

We started a search for the duck which began in his bed and gradually moved to every other room in the house.

"You know, Lauren, you could pray that I would help you find the duck. What a great lesson it would be for the kids!" Jesus said.

I thought to myself that Jesus had bigger fish to fry (just like I usually do) and continued the search.

After we returned to the little boy's bedroom, I reluctantly tried to explain to him that sometimes we have to go to sleep without our ducks.

"But I need my duck."

He looked at me with his dark chocolate brown eyes and my heart melted.

After an inward sigh and roll of the eyes and a quick, "This had better work!" to God, I said, "Why don't we pray and ask God to help us find the duck!"

Five minutes later, when we had resolved the issue that, yes, Jesus can indeed talk to us and no, Santa would be of no help in this situation, I prayed a quick prayer.

"Tell Him that the duck has black eyes and white fur!" the five year-old chimed in after my amen.

I added those details just to make sure that He understood who we were looking for.

When Duck magically emerged about two minutes later, (he had been wrapped tightly under the covers in the bed and yes, I do believe that God who helped me find him,) the three year-old said a quick prayer of thanks.    

"Thank you, God, for this food." Here he paused, trying to remember what else he needed to say to God. Then he remembered. "I have my duck back!"

I'll bet God cared more about us finding that two-legged, stringy-haired platypus than I did.

The Everlasting Truth

Thank God, every one of us can love Christ, and we can all do something for Him. It may be a small thing; but whatever it is shall be lasting; it will outlive all the monuments on earth. The iron and the granite will rust and crumble away, but anything done for Christ will never fade. It will be more lasting than time itself. Christ says; "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My word shall not pass away." D L Moody

Where He Leads, I Will Go...

Last night, in the wee hours of the morning, I was listening to the catastrophic storm outside my window. It was a little unnerving to realize nothing but some nails and wood were between me and that lightening!

Thinking is a wonderful thing to do when you don't normally do it. Like during a thunderstorm at 4 am. So I started to think. About deep things, you know, such as life. I pondered what would be next, the path I was taking, and what I needed to do. Quickly I was becoming rather mixed up and as uncertain as the thunder outside.

When all of a sudden, I remembered Silver Delight.

Go with me back in time about six years ago, on a warm summer day at a church camping trip. Lauren and I were together for the weekend. For a whole weekend we rode our bikes, toasted marshmallows, played with little kids, caught fireflies, sangs songs, and had fun.

But even all that could get a little old. Because, well, the two of us have always had a zeal for adventure. And that afternoon in particular we were itching for it. If I remember correctly, we had been playing with some of the kids in a little grove of trees. We dubbed one tree a Wishing Tree, where wishes really did come true. (Well, we made it happen, anyway.)

Slowly, we wandered away from the children and began to venture into a woods nearby.

It was stunning. An old country lane wound through shimmering trees, and tall lush grass brushed against our feet. Because every place needs a name, we named it. We walked and walked, and slowly the path became narrower, but became only more poetic and lovely. When we thought for sure we'd be lost forever and have to sleep in the forest for the night (or at least I was hoping!) we emerged from the woods into a field of Queen Anne's Lace, the campground out in the distance. We got back to the camper safely, only hot and sweaty and no one had even missed us. We, however, had a memory tucked away which delighted us very much.

I must admit, there are times when it feels that the path I'm taking in life is so strange and different from what it the world around me says it ought to be. I think that is why God reminded me of Silver Delight. Through the world's eyes our path is strange, awkward, odd, different, and unrealistic. But to Christ? It is beautiful. His path is sacred, hidden, and precious. It is stunning, much like Silver Delight.

A few days ago Lauren and I were walking down the Magnificent Mile in Chicago. And so were hundreds and hundreds of other people. The road was paved and flat and and well-worn. Dozens upon dozens of shops and restaurants glared and beckoned, "Come over here!" In all its glory, Michigan Avenue had little of the appeal that Silver Delight had.

Friends, do you see the difference? One leads to life, and the other leads to death. Which one are you on?

Ponder the path of thy feet, and all thy ways will be established. Proverbs 4:26

What is the Will of God?

Who hasn't asked this question? I find that it's the most common question asked when a situation arises that is difficult to understand. Many people assume that God's will always just "happens," and we need to rest in that.

I stopped at our house this afternoon for a half hour, and while I was walking through the garage, an inch-long, flesh-colored mass the width of my index finger caught my eye. Thinking it was an earthworm, I moved closer and caught my breath when I realized that it was an abandoned newborn mouse. Its eyes were still closed, but its microscopic whiskers and equally tiny fingers, toes and tail were all perfectly formed. It was writhing back and forth, rolling on our garage floor.

I had never seen a mammal so small in my life, and I immediately called a friend who knows a lot about taking care of animals, who said that it would die without its mother.

Deciding that I had to move it so that it at least wouldn't get run over, I used two pieces of cardboard to pick it up and move it underneath a bush. It screamed with all of the strength it could muster, but the sound was barely audible. I watched its heart pump violently as it continued to roll back and forth, wondering why it had been so cruelly abandoned by the one who was made to care for it.

On my way home later this afternoon, the concept of abortion was laying heavily upon my heart. The baby mouse was the size of an unborn child at two months of conception, who would also have a heart pulsing blood through its perfectly designed circulatory system. Except the unborn child would have ninety years of beautiful life ahead- a life that he or she would never have a chance to live.

As I pulled into the black gates of Planned Parenthood to think and pray, I realized that the will of God doesn't always happen. He doesn't want 3,500 perfectly fashioned, precious lives to be abruptly ended every single day anymore than He desires for an innocent little mouse to die for no reason. These things are the consequences of abiding in a sin-filled, dark world, and we certainly shouldn't blame Him for them.

Maybe instead of asking God what His will is, we ought to be asking Him how we can help make it actually come to pass.  

Faith vs. Hope

((This is our 250th post! Cue the Hallelujah Chorus and confetti flying everywhere!))

I just got off of the phone with a very dear friend of mine, and I wanted to share something that she said with you.

In my mind, faith and hope are very similar. If I have hope, I have always thought that I have faith, too. "Well, this situation is bound to get better eventually!" I say as optimistically as possible. That's hope.

Or...

"In the name of Jesus, I call this situation in line with the perfect, heavenly will of God!"

That's faith. She backed it up with a scripture that I haven't thought about in quite awhile:

"Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours." Mark 11:24

Those are the words of your Jesus.

Here's how she put it: "Hope is for the future. Faith is for right now." Notice how Jesus puts "believe that you have received it" in past tense. We must believe that the things we need are already ours, because that's faith.

Otherwise, all that we have is hope- and hope might take longer than we should be willing to hold out for.