December 23- The Holy City
Joseph was focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The hill he was now attempting seemed to be never ending. At last, Joseph sensed he had reached the zenith. The donkey exhaled. Mary’s breath caught in her throat. Joseph raised his head to examine the scene before him.
Stretched out in the distance was the Holy City of Jerusalem. The city was set on multiple hills. On the highest hill, Mount Moriah, sat the Temple. Its golden dome glittered in the sunlight and put to shame the expanse around it. It was a moment of majesty and the young couple stood in silence, exhausted and in awe.
From her perch on the donkey, Mary sensed a tightening in her abdomen. These small feelings deep in her belly had started this morning. She suffered them in silence, hoping the Child within was merely stretching the confines of His chambers. Now, as she looks upon the Holy City, several of these sensations happen at once. Mary sets her jaw and bows her head. Joseph says nothing, assuming she is taking in the wonderful sight before them.
They cross through the city and take the gate that will lead them on towards Bethlehem. Once on the outskirts they begin to pass shepherds farther up in the hills. Sheep lazily graze on the cool grass above. One shepherd in particular is chasing after a wayward lamb far out on the edges of a cliff. Mary watches as he coaxes it back towards him and then drapes it over his shoulders for the trek back towards the herd. Hours later, another shepherd stands alone and watches as the two of them pass him by. Ever so slightly he nods at the two of them. He seems to be waiting for something. What that may be, Mary does not know.
Looking around, Joseph notes a silence to the air. The birds have gone quiet in the trees as if they were anticipating a change in the weather. The sky overhead was dotted with clouds. The setting sun was casting shadows across the plain that stretched down on Joseph’s left. The world was holding its breath as if anticipating the closure of both the day and an era.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
From Nazareth to the Manger: Fighting Fatigue
December 22 - Fighting Fatigue
The wind blew across the road and the arid desert swirled around Mary and Joseph. Since leaving Sychar, the hills have gotten higher and higher. His feet cracked and near bleeding, Joseph stumbles over a rock and barely catches himself before he falls. His water pouch is almost empty. Above him on the animal, Mary’s head chin rests on her chest. She’s exhausted and beyond trying to hide it.
At this stage in the journey there is nothing to do but press on. Turning back to Sychar would mean facing going down the steep slopes they just went up. Joseph could not stand the thought of leading the donkey down those slopes. Mary would have to walk and Joseph did not think she was capable of standing upright at this point. The next stop would be Bethel followed by Jerusalem and then, finally, Bethlehem. Joseph glanced at the sky, silently asking for a sign or a voice or a dream that would urge him on. The only thing that met his ears was the sound of the wind and the trod of the donkey at his side. Little did he know that God was preparing to reveal Himself in the most profound way mankind had ever encountered.
There are times along our journey when we have no choice but to press on. It is during these times when we must trust God to provide a way along the path. Have you ever asked for a sign only to receive what you perceive as silence? Do not fear! Our Lord is never truly silent but always preparing the way ahead of us so that we might witness His glory!
The wind blew across the road and the arid desert swirled around Mary and Joseph. Since leaving Sychar, the hills have gotten higher and higher. His feet cracked and near bleeding, Joseph stumbles over a rock and barely catches himself before he falls. His water pouch is almost empty. Above him on the animal, Mary’s head chin rests on her chest. She’s exhausted and beyond trying to hide it.
At this stage in the journey there is nothing to do but press on. Turning back to Sychar would mean facing going down the steep slopes they just went up. Joseph could not stand the thought of leading the donkey down those slopes. Mary would have to walk and Joseph did not think she was capable of standing upright at this point. The next stop would be Bethel followed by Jerusalem and then, finally, Bethlehem. Joseph glanced at the sky, silently asking for a sign or a voice or a dream that would urge him on. The only thing that met his ears was the sound of the wind and the trod of the donkey at his side. Little did he know that God was preparing to reveal Himself in the most profound way mankind had ever encountered.
There are times along our journey when we have no choice but to press on. It is during these times when we must trust God to provide a way along the path. Have you ever asked for a sign only to receive what you perceive as silence? Do not fear! Our Lord is never truly silent but always preparing the way ahead of us so that we might witness His glory!
Saturday, December 21, 2013
From Nazareth to the Manger: Searching in Sychar
December 21 – Searching in Sychar
After several days, the journey to Bethlehem becomes more challenging. The road curves back and forth as it ascends and descends the hills and mountains of central Israel. The half-way point is marked by the city of Sychar. Three soldiers stand outside the entrance to the city at what was once Jacob’s well. Little does Mary know but her Son will one day meet a Samaritan woman here. The living water He will offer will alter her life forever.
The soldiers stop different small groups here and there, searching the faces of the middle aged men who passed. From time to time, they turn to each other and make cryptic statements.
“Not that one. He’s too young.”
“That one’s too old. King Herod said he would be in his prime.”
“This one seems weak. It would not be him.”
They are looking for someone. Something about this frightens Mary and her breath catches in her throat. The soldiers approach. They look at her, the donkey, and Joseph. A glance passes between the men and, for a moment, Mary thinks she sees a grimace on the face of the soldier in charge.
“Move on,” he states simply and his hand left passes in front of him. His countenance shifts from questioning to annoyance. They pick up the pace.
The noise of the crowds overwhelms Joseph as they step inside the city gates. They are both exhausted and in need of food. The bread Anne made ran out yesterday. Joseph had been silently refilling Mary’s water pouch from his own during the long, hot days and the crack in his lower is widening. They need provisions and Sychar is the place to find them.
As they walk past stalls selling finery and food, Joseph’s brow is knitted in concern. Perhaps they should not have come. Who would have known that Joseph’s family was not of Nazareth? He could have been counted there. They were half way to Bethlehem and the journey had been hard but the donkey had made it possible. Despite her protests, the dark circles around Mary’s eyes revealed her fatigue. They could still fall ill or be robbed. The donkey could become lame and then what would they do?
Joseph sighs. The weight of his worry makes his shoulders ache as they purchase bread and fish. The two of them would branch off from the caravan at this point and head farther south. As they make their way to the southern gate and the road that would take them on to their destination, Joseph silently asks God for strength and protection. The next few days will be the most dangerous part and it will take a miracle if they are to stave off all the potential hardships.
After several days, the journey to Bethlehem becomes more challenging. The road curves back and forth as it ascends and descends the hills and mountains of central Israel. The half-way point is marked by the city of Sychar. Three soldiers stand outside the entrance to the city at what was once Jacob’s well. Little does Mary know but her Son will one day meet a Samaritan woman here. The living water He will offer will alter her life forever.
The soldiers stop different small groups here and there, searching the faces of the middle aged men who passed. From time to time, they turn to each other and make cryptic statements.
“Not that one. He’s too young.”
“That one’s too old. King Herod said he would be in his prime.”
“This one seems weak. It would not be him.”
They are looking for someone. Something about this frightens Mary and her breath catches in her throat. The soldiers approach. They look at her, the donkey, and Joseph. A glance passes between the men and, for a moment, Mary thinks she sees a grimace on the face of the soldier in charge.
“Move on,” he states simply and his hand left passes in front of him. His countenance shifts from questioning to annoyance. They pick up the pace.
The noise of the crowds overwhelms Joseph as they step inside the city gates. They are both exhausted and in need of food. The bread Anne made ran out yesterday. Joseph had been silently refilling Mary’s water pouch from his own during the long, hot days and the crack in his lower is widening. They need provisions and Sychar is the place to find them.
As they walk past stalls selling finery and food, Joseph’s brow is knitted in concern. Perhaps they should not have come. Who would have known that Joseph’s family was not of Nazareth? He could have been counted there. They were half way to Bethlehem and the journey had been hard but the donkey had made it possible. Despite her protests, the dark circles around Mary’s eyes revealed her fatigue. They could still fall ill or be robbed. The donkey could become lame and then what would they do?
Joseph sighs. The weight of his worry makes his shoulders ache as they purchase bread and fish. The two of them would branch off from the caravan at this point and head farther south. As they make their way to the southern gate and the road that would take them on to their destination, Joseph silently asks God for strength and protection. The next few days will be the most dangerous part and it will take a miracle if they are to stave off all the potential hardships.
From Nazareth to the Manger: Raising the Son
December 20 – Raising the Son
On day three of the voyage, Mary began ponder the child as He wrestled in the ever tighter confines of her womb. He had been particularly active the last few days; stirring when the motion of the donkey stopped as they rested at a well; kicking when Mary patted her belly absentmindedly. Mary had the innate sense those feet would travel roads far longer than these. The young mother in her already started to fret about where those roads might lead.
Joseph noticed the absent look in Mary’s face from time to time as if she were far away in her own mind. He worried that perhaps she was tired or in pain, but after she denied such things half a dozen times he kept his concern to himself. He waited patiently for her to share her heart with him as they paused one night alongside the road.
Mary’s back curved into the aromatic wood of a tree trunk. She had her eyes closed. Joseph thought she slept and it was only when she opened her mouth to speak that he realized she was merely deep in her own musings.
“Do you think He will speak right away? Or will He grow as other children do? What should I do when He is bad? Do I have the right to discipline the Son of God or do I trust that God will do that Himself?”
Joseph was amazed at this! Mary spoke as if she had seen into his heart and merely given voice to his own concerns.
“For my life, I do not know”, Joseph replied. “Today, as the sun stretched overhead, I watched other fathers and their children. A man put his son on his shoulders and I marveled as the boy stretch his hands to the clouds. I wondered: if I put this Son on my shoulders, will He actually touch heaven?”
Mary opened her eyes. Her gaze drifted from the road to the clump of bushes straight ahead. A gentle wind caused their leaves to rustle in the newborn softness of the night. At last, her face turned toward Joseph’s and they stared at each other for a long moment, exchanging wordless questions and formless reassurance. They would be together and they would do whatever God asked of them. The Son of Man could not raise Himself. If He could, why be born at all?
On day three of the voyage, Mary began ponder the child as He wrestled in the ever tighter confines of her womb. He had been particularly active the last few days; stirring when the motion of the donkey stopped as they rested at a well; kicking when Mary patted her belly absentmindedly. Mary had the innate sense those feet would travel roads far longer than these. The young mother in her already started to fret about where those roads might lead.
Joseph noticed the absent look in Mary’s face from time to time as if she were far away in her own mind. He worried that perhaps she was tired or in pain, but after she denied such things half a dozen times he kept his concern to himself. He waited patiently for her to share her heart with him as they paused one night alongside the road.
Mary’s back curved into the aromatic wood of a tree trunk. She had her eyes closed. Joseph thought she slept and it was only when she opened her mouth to speak that he realized she was merely deep in her own musings.
“Do you think He will speak right away? Or will He grow as other children do? What should I do when He is bad? Do I have the right to discipline the Son of God or do I trust that God will do that Himself?”
Joseph was amazed at this! Mary spoke as if she had seen into his heart and merely given voice to his own concerns.
“For my life, I do not know”, Joseph replied. “Today, as the sun stretched overhead, I watched other fathers and their children. A man put his son on his shoulders and I marveled as the boy stretch his hands to the clouds. I wondered: if I put this Son on my shoulders, will He actually touch heaven?”
Mary opened her eyes. Her gaze drifted from the road to the clump of bushes straight ahead. A gentle wind caused their leaves to rustle in the newborn softness of the night. At last, her face turned toward Joseph’s and they stared at each other for a long moment, exchanging wordless questions and formless reassurance. They would be together and they would do whatever God asked of them. The Son of Man could not raise Himself. If He could, why be born at all?
From Nazareth to the Manger: A Glimpse
December 19- A Glimpse
During the first day of the journey, Joseph kept his eyes ahead on the road as he walked next to the donkey. When he addressed Mary, he looked up but never directly into her eyes. Mary kept her gaze downcast. These were small rules they had adjusted to in the previous months. A formality, so to speek. Now, slowly, Joseph was stealing glances in her direction and several times they had gazed at each other briefly, as if they shared a common secret.
“So this is what it will be like”, thought Mary contentedly. “I will be a wife who looks into her husband’s face and speaks to him in quiet tones while he handles business. I will wash my children and the linens. Joseph and I will come together over the common hardships of life as we are uniting during this journey. This is a glimpse at marriage. This is a taste of my life.” Mary looked around at the scene before her and took in the soft, musky scent of ripening olives.
The slow ascent from the Jezreel Valley took them past mile upon mile of olive trees. The olive trees spoke silent testimony to the unborn child. Oil from olives produced by these very trees would anoint kings and sacred objects. In coming years, the Child would be anointed, not by a priest or prophet, but twice – once by a prostitute (Luke 7:36-50) and once by Lazarus’s sister (John 11:1-2). He will be a King but not one of gold and riches. He will come to lift up the lowly and untouchable.
During the first day of the journey, Joseph kept his eyes ahead on the road as he walked next to the donkey. When he addressed Mary, he looked up but never directly into her eyes. Mary kept her gaze downcast. These were small rules they had adjusted to in the previous months. A formality, so to speek. Now, slowly, Joseph was stealing glances in her direction and several times they had gazed at each other briefly, as if they shared a common secret.
“So this is what it will be like”, thought Mary contentedly. “I will be a wife who looks into her husband’s face and speaks to him in quiet tones while he handles business. I will wash my children and the linens. Joseph and I will come together over the common hardships of life as we are uniting during this journey. This is a glimpse at marriage. This is a taste of my life.” Mary looked around at the scene before her and took in the soft, musky scent of ripening olives.
The slow ascent from the Jezreel Valley took them past mile upon mile of olive trees. The olive trees spoke silent testimony to the unborn child. Oil from olives produced by these very trees would anoint kings and sacred objects. In coming years, the Child would be anointed, not by a priest or prophet, but twice – once by a prostitute (Luke 7:36-50) and once by Lazarus’s sister (John 11:1-2). He will be a King but not one of gold and riches. He will come to lift up the lowly and untouchable.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
From Nazareth to the Manger: The Departure
December 18 – The Departure
The sun had not yet risen over the hills of Nazareth when Mary and Joseph set off with the caravan traveling south. The donkey plodded along, his feet laden with invisible bricks that seemed to protest the early morning hours. There was crispness to the air and they could see their own breaths mingling with that of the various pack animals. Joseph held tight to the rope around the donkey’s neck, feeling the full weight of his situation as guardian of his bride-to-be and the unborn child.
Their journey started with a descent from the hills of Nazareth to the even plain of the Jezreel Valley. This was the easiest part of the voyage. This valley was the location of many ancient battles and its rich dirt was steeped in conflict and bloodshed. Unbeknownst to all involved, this was a very ironic beginning for the journey that would culminate in the birth of the One who would be called The Prince of Peace.
Mary glanced at the stars overhead as they slowly disappeared in the early morning light. Her heart fluttered in her chest at the thought of leaving her home again so soon. So much traveling in the last 9 months! Mary remembered her trip into the hills of Judea to visit Elizabeth months before. There had been so much fear in that time. The angel had appeared to her and the news that both she and Elizabeth would bear children had sent her, breathless and frightened, on the excursion to see for herself. Now, on the way to Bethlehem with Joseph for the census, Mary feels only anticipation. God, it seems, liked to reveal himself in the guise of a good journey and Mary was ready and watchful for what He might reveal to her next.
The sun had not yet risen over the hills of Nazareth when Mary and Joseph set off with the caravan traveling south. The donkey plodded along, his feet laden with invisible bricks that seemed to protest the early morning hours. There was crispness to the air and they could see their own breaths mingling with that of the various pack animals. Joseph held tight to the rope around the donkey’s neck, feeling the full weight of his situation as guardian of his bride-to-be and the unborn child.
Their journey started with a descent from the hills of Nazareth to the even plain of the Jezreel Valley. This was the easiest part of the voyage. This valley was the location of many ancient battles and its rich dirt was steeped in conflict and bloodshed. Unbeknownst to all involved, this was a very ironic beginning for the journey that would culminate in the birth of the One who would be called The Prince of Peace.
Mary glanced at the stars overhead as they slowly disappeared in the early morning light. Her heart fluttered in her chest at the thought of leaving her home again so soon. So much traveling in the last 9 months! Mary remembered her trip into the hills of Judea to visit Elizabeth months before. There had been so much fear in that time. The angel had appeared to her and the news that both she and Elizabeth would bear children had sent her, breathless and frightened, on the excursion to see for herself. Now, on the way to Bethlehem with Joseph for the census, Mary feels only anticipation. God, it seems, liked to reveal himself in the guise of a good journey and Mary was ready and watchful for what He might reveal to her next.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
From Nazareth to the Manger: Bread and Promises
December 17- Bread and Promises
Anne’s hands are knuckle-deep kneading dough. The unleavened bread she is preparing will last Mary and Joseph the first few days of their trip. Although she does not understand why her daughter has chosen to go with Joseph on this journey, she does sense there is some greater purpose at work.
When Mary returned from visiting Elizabeth, Anne was heartbroken. Open mouthed in disbelief, Anne listened as her daughter told her a tale about an angel and God and being “the favored one”. Ha! If her daughter was Jehovah’s favored one, He sure had a funny way of showing it. It took months for Anne to even entertain the possibility that Mary might believe she was telling the truth. When Anne thinks back on the afternoons she and Mary spent mending or washing clothes, making cheese, sweeping or fetching water, she regrets the constant questioning she put her daughter through.
“Are you sure it wasn’t a soldier?”
“If it WAS Joseph, just be honest and we can see what can be done about the rest of the wedding.”
“Certainly it was another man from the village. Just name him and we can get on with fixing this mess.”
At first Mary was adamant and tearful. Over time she became silent and resolute. Eventually, Anne quit asking questions. She took to studying her daughter’s face, her movements, her countenance.
There was a peace in Mary unlike Anne had never seen. At night Mary would sleep with her hands across her stomach in a protective manner. During the day she sang to herself in soft, joyous tones. There was excitement playing in the corners of her eyes. She bore the silence and disdain of the town like a crown on her head. If it was possible, Mary even stood taller now. Anne kept these things in her heart and pondered them in the way mothers do.
As Anne rolls out dough into flat pieces of bread, she works on exhaling her fears and inhaling the silent promises she knows for certain:
“Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a still, small voice” 1 Kings 19:11-12
Anne’s hands are knuckle-deep kneading dough. The unleavened bread she is preparing will last Mary and Joseph the first few days of their trip. Although she does not understand why her daughter has chosen to go with Joseph on this journey, she does sense there is some greater purpose at work.
When Mary returned from visiting Elizabeth, Anne was heartbroken. Open mouthed in disbelief, Anne listened as her daughter told her a tale about an angel and God and being “the favored one”. Ha! If her daughter was Jehovah’s favored one, He sure had a funny way of showing it. It took months for Anne to even entertain the possibility that Mary might believe she was telling the truth. When Anne thinks back on the afternoons she and Mary spent mending or washing clothes, making cheese, sweeping or fetching water, she regrets the constant questioning she put her daughter through.
“Are you sure it wasn’t a soldier?”
“If it WAS Joseph, just be honest and we can see what can be done about the rest of the wedding.”
“Certainly it was another man from the village. Just name him and we can get on with fixing this mess.”
At first Mary was adamant and tearful. Over time she became silent and resolute. Eventually, Anne quit asking questions. She took to studying her daughter’s face, her movements, her countenance.
There was a peace in Mary unlike Anne had never seen. At night Mary would sleep with her hands across her stomach in a protective manner. During the day she sang to herself in soft, joyous tones. There was excitement playing in the corners of her eyes. She bore the silence and disdain of the town like a crown on her head. If it was possible, Mary even stood taller now. Anne kept these things in her heart and pondered them in the way mothers do.
As Anne rolls out dough into flat pieces of bread, she works on exhaling her fears and inhaling the silent promises she knows for certain:
“Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a still, small voice” 1 Kings 19:11-12
Monday, December 16, 2013
From Nazareth to the Manger - Sacrafices
December 16-Sacrafices
Mary walks past the well with an apron full of kindling. This task was definitely easier a few months ago when she wasn’t also making room for the full moon of her pregnancy. A few friends of hers stop their drawing of the well bucket to stare at her as she passes by. Mary smiles. They do not. No doubt their fathers and mothers rebuked them months ago for their association with her. Pregnant and unmarried, she was now the most unworthy of outcasts. The story of the angel and her version of the tale had been circling Nazareth since she first returned from Elizabeth’s house. Truly, the last half a year had taught Mary what it means to stand firm and sometimes feel very much alone. There was so much more at stake right now. If only her “friends” could know and understand that.
Not far away, Joseph stands at the edge of the woods as he fells a small tree. He plans to use part of the trunk in the threshold of his new home. He pauses in his work to remove a thorn from his right hand and take a draw of water from his pouch. As he does so, he sees a group of young men enter the forest not far from him. He recognizes several as they talk and yell and clap each other on the back. These same men congratulated him not a year ago when he told them he had secured Joachim’s daughter in marriage. They laughed and made a few off color jokes as young men often do. When Mary returned from visiting Elizabeth and it was apparent that not all was as it seemed, Joseph had sought refuge in their company for a while. After the angel appeared to him, he approached Mary and her family and made it clear he would stand with her. His “friends” had quickly turned their backs. Joseph would never tell anyone, but parts of the work on his house had mysteriously fallen in. Stores of wood and supplies had disappeared. He would never bring such accusations before any counsel. It wasn’t worth it. There was so much more going on under the surface. Every pore on Joseph’s body knew that.
Sometimes God asks us to stand firm in His call despite what happens around us. We may sacrifice things that are near and dear to us but it is important to remember that we are far from the first called to do so. Despite what you have lost or sacrificed today remember, thousands of years ago, a young man and a young woman sacrificed so that a child could eventually come forth and make all things new.
Mary walks past the well with an apron full of kindling. This task was definitely easier a few months ago when she wasn’t also making room for the full moon of her pregnancy. A few friends of hers stop their drawing of the well bucket to stare at her as she passes by. Mary smiles. They do not. No doubt their fathers and mothers rebuked them months ago for their association with her. Pregnant and unmarried, she was now the most unworthy of outcasts. The story of the angel and her version of the tale had been circling Nazareth since she first returned from Elizabeth’s house. Truly, the last half a year had taught Mary what it means to stand firm and sometimes feel very much alone. There was so much more at stake right now. If only her “friends” could know and understand that.
Not far away, Joseph stands at the edge of the woods as he fells a small tree. He plans to use part of the trunk in the threshold of his new home. He pauses in his work to remove a thorn from his right hand and take a draw of water from his pouch. As he does so, he sees a group of young men enter the forest not far from him. He recognizes several as they talk and yell and clap each other on the back. These same men congratulated him not a year ago when he told them he had secured Joachim’s daughter in marriage. They laughed and made a few off color jokes as young men often do. When Mary returned from visiting Elizabeth and it was apparent that not all was as it seemed, Joseph had sought refuge in their company for a while. After the angel appeared to him, he approached Mary and her family and made it clear he would stand with her. His “friends” had quickly turned their backs. Joseph would never tell anyone, but parts of the work on his house had mysteriously fallen in. Stores of wood and supplies had disappeared. He would never bring such accusations before any counsel. It wasn’t worth it. There was so much more going on under the surface. Every pore on Joseph’s body knew that.
Sometimes God asks us to stand firm in His call despite what happens around us. We may sacrifice things that are near and dear to us but it is important to remember that we are far from the first called to do so. Despite what you have lost or sacrificed today remember, thousands of years ago, a young man and a young woman sacrificed so that a child could eventually come forth and make all things new.
Sunday, December 15, 2013
From Nazareth to the Manger - Fathers and Daughters
December 15- Fathers and Daughters
The air is dry and Joachim can feel his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. As he stares across the small valley, the braying of the donkey next to him shifts his thoughts from his current financial situation to the news his future son-in-law shared with him a few days previous. Mary and Joseph would be leaving soon to set off for Bethlehem and, as a father, Joachim has his own concerns about this news. He grabs the rope around the donkey’s neck and sets off for home.
As he walks through the streets of town, the feeling of grit gathering in his sandals, Joachim reflects on what it was like the day he learned Anne had given birth to his daughter. Joachim remembers joy and the strange feeling that this little girl would somehow change his world in unimaginable ways. She used to run to him squealing with delight when he walked through the door of their simple home. He remembers the way her hair used to fall in her face after she laughed. Headstrong, she often did things she was told not to do.
Joachim can still picture the day a very large tree limb fell in the street outside their home. The sun had barely started to cast a glow on the morning clouds. Seven year old Mary was the first to find it. At first, Joachim thought she failed to see him watching her. Sleep still in the corners of her eyes, Mary circled the large limb three times. She stopped in front of it and planted her feet with determination. Staring at the leaves sticking out from the limb, she put her hands on her hips. Joachim could almost see her own thoughts close her in like a blanket. She reached out her small hands and placed them on the nearest part of the rough brown bark and began to push. She struggled and grunted, pushing with all her might. She kept pushing and straining for several minutes, sweat forming on her brow and above her lip. Just as Joachim was about to call out to her, she stopped her efforts. To his surprise, she merely reached up and rolled up her sleeves. She was back at it before he could blink. Joachim watched her push and pull, fall over, get up and go at it again. She was dirty from the road and her hair was now hanging past her waist, drenched in her own sweat. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Joachim stepped off the threshold with a chuckle and called out:
“Mary! Stop! Let me help you!”
Suddenly, her face turned to him. The fire in her eyes stopped him dead in his tracks. Joachim had never seen such determination. She inhaled deeply and with all her strength she pushed. The muscles in her small arms stood out, her face turned red, and her mouth popped open in a silent cry. As the sun burst over the horizon and lit up the scene before him, the tree limb began to move. Ever so slowly, inch by inch, the tree limb moved ever so slightly leaving a gap in the street for people to pass by. Mary stopped and momentarily collapsed against the branch. The path she had made was small but it would do so that neighbors could sneak by to get to the well.
Mary straightened and looked at him, “Yes, Abba”. Her childish face returned to its usual state of innocence.
“Mary, why did you do that? I was on my way to help.” Joachim said as he reached her in the street.
She shrugged her small shoulders and looked up into his face. “Everyone has to do their part to clear the way for others. I found it. It was mine to move.” With that, Mary tossed her hair over her shoulder and skipped back to the house.
Now, standing in the same spot in the street, Joachim, knows his little girl is plenty strong to do her part. The donkey brays again and a thought occurs to him - he can offer them the animal. That will at least be of some help. Taking the rope again and pulling ever so slightly, Joachim heads towards the back of the house where he keeps it tied up. It's the least a father can do.
The air is dry and Joachim can feel his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. As he stares across the small valley, the braying of the donkey next to him shifts his thoughts from his current financial situation to the news his future son-in-law shared with him a few days previous. Mary and Joseph would be leaving soon to set off for Bethlehem and, as a father, Joachim has his own concerns about this news. He grabs the rope around the donkey’s neck and sets off for home.
As he walks through the streets of town, the feeling of grit gathering in his sandals, Joachim reflects on what it was like the day he learned Anne had given birth to his daughter. Joachim remembers joy and the strange feeling that this little girl would somehow change his world in unimaginable ways. She used to run to him squealing with delight when he walked through the door of their simple home. He remembers the way her hair used to fall in her face after she laughed. Headstrong, she often did things she was told not to do.
Joachim can still picture the day a very large tree limb fell in the street outside their home. The sun had barely started to cast a glow on the morning clouds. Seven year old Mary was the first to find it. At first, Joachim thought she failed to see him watching her. Sleep still in the corners of her eyes, Mary circled the large limb three times. She stopped in front of it and planted her feet with determination. Staring at the leaves sticking out from the limb, she put her hands on her hips. Joachim could almost see her own thoughts close her in like a blanket. She reached out her small hands and placed them on the nearest part of the rough brown bark and began to push. She struggled and grunted, pushing with all her might. She kept pushing and straining for several minutes, sweat forming on her brow and above her lip. Just as Joachim was about to call out to her, she stopped her efforts. To his surprise, she merely reached up and rolled up her sleeves. She was back at it before he could blink. Joachim watched her push and pull, fall over, get up and go at it again. She was dirty from the road and her hair was now hanging past her waist, drenched in her own sweat. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Joachim stepped off the threshold with a chuckle and called out:
“Mary! Stop! Let me help you!”
Suddenly, her face turned to him. The fire in her eyes stopped him dead in his tracks. Joachim had never seen such determination. She inhaled deeply and with all her strength she pushed. The muscles in her small arms stood out, her face turned red, and her mouth popped open in a silent cry. As the sun burst over the horizon and lit up the scene before him, the tree limb began to move. Ever so slowly, inch by inch, the tree limb moved ever so slightly leaving a gap in the street for people to pass by. Mary stopped and momentarily collapsed against the branch. The path she had made was small but it would do so that neighbors could sneak by to get to the well.
Mary straightened and looked at him, “Yes, Abba”. Her childish face returned to its usual state of innocence.
“Mary, why did you do that? I was on my way to help.” Joachim said as he reached her in the street.
She shrugged her small shoulders and looked up into his face. “Everyone has to do their part to clear the way for others. I found it. It was mine to move.” With that, Mary tossed her hair over her shoulder and skipped back to the house.
Now, standing in the same spot in the street, Joachim, knows his little girl is plenty strong to do her part. The donkey brays again and a thought occurs to him - he can offer them the animal. That will at least be of some help. Taking the rope again and pulling ever so slightly, Joachim heads towards the back of the house where he keeps it tied up. It's the least a father can do.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
From Nazareth to the Manger: Gathering Supplies
December 14- Gathering Supplies
Joseph has been examining his own thoughts and fears. He is determined to be obedient to God’s call. As he gathers supplies for the trip ahead, let’s take a look at what it might have been like to prepare for this kind of journey.
It is nearing nightfall. Joseph sits inside his partially finished home facing the wall farthest from the door. He stares at the hiding place he built into the wall. He has been saving his shekels, minas, assarions, and quadrants over the last 12 months. Since signing the ketubah (the first phase of their marriage contract), Joseph had been working to save up the money required of him by Joachim. Now that this money is needed for their journey, who knows how long it will take before Joseph and Mary can celebrate the final stages of their union. Joseph runs his dusty fingers across his brow. It doesn’t matter now. There is a journey ahead of them and there is the child, of course.
They’ll need clean water, fish, and bread for the journey. They will be able to stop halfway in Sychar to replenish needed items. Supplies are not the problem. What worries Joseph most is Mary’s condition. What will all of this walking be like? She claims that the days required for the journey are less in number than the days before the arrival of the child. Hopefully she does not tire too quickly. She’s so young and he worries about her becoming ill or injured. That is the part that will require the most faith.
The sound of children squealing in the street outside brings Joseph away from his thoughts. The child. What will this child be like? Will he laugh and play? Will he scrape his knees? How will Joseph provide for him? He’s not worried about the boy’s physical needs. Any man can feed a family. Any man can provide a roof over their heads. The real question is: how does a man prepare to truly provide for the Son of God? What Joseph fails to realize is that the Son is not coming to have His needs met but to meet the needs of all mankind. Even the act of His impending birth will bear witness to God’s great and mighty provision.
Joseph has been examining his own thoughts and fears. He is determined to be obedient to God’s call. As he gathers supplies for the trip ahead, let’s take a look at what it might have been like to prepare for this kind of journey.
It is nearing nightfall. Joseph sits inside his partially finished home facing the wall farthest from the door. He stares at the hiding place he built into the wall. He has been saving his shekels, minas, assarions, and quadrants over the last 12 months. Since signing the ketubah (the first phase of their marriage contract), Joseph had been working to save up the money required of him by Joachim. Now that this money is needed for their journey, who knows how long it will take before Joseph and Mary can celebrate the final stages of their union. Joseph runs his dusty fingers across his brow. It doesn’t matter now. There is a journey ahead of them and there is the child, of course.
They’ll need clean water, fish, and bread for the journey. They will be able to stop halfway in Sychar to replenish needed items. Supplies are not the problem. What worries Joseph most is Mary’s condition. What will all of this walking be like? She claims that the days required for the journey are less in number than the days before the arrival of the child. Hopefully she does not tire too quickly. She’s so young and he worries about her becoming ill or injured. That is the part that will require the most faith.
The sound of children squealing in the street outside brings Joseph away from his thoughts. The child. What will this child be like? Will he laugh and play? Will he scrape his knees? How will Joseph provide for him? He’s not worried about the boy’s physical needs. Any man can feed a family. Any man can provide a roof over their heads. The real question is: how does a man prepare to truly provide for the Son of God? What Joseph fails to realize is that the Son is not coming to have His needs met but to meet the needs of all mankind. Even the act of His impending birth will bear witness to God’s great and mighty provision.
Friday, December 13, 2013
From Nazareth to the Manger
I started writing these for a friend who is going through a tough time. I wanted to give this person something to think about during the holiday season this year. I've been encouraged to share them. I'll catch you up here but stay tuned because there will be a new one every day from now until Christmas!
December 10 – The Census Announced
There are 15 days between now and Christmas. I often try to picture what life might have really been like for the One who went before me. What were Mary and Joseph doing on this day, thousands of years ago? I looked into how long it would have taken for Joseph and Mary to make the trip from Bethlehem to Nazareth. It's an 80 mile journey and some people guess that it would have taken a caravan of healthy young people about 4 days to walk it. With Mary pregnant and on a donkey, the journey could have lasted as long as a week for the two of them. SO, we know they haven't left yet. In fact, they're probably sitting around Nazareth right now as soldiers ride into town to tell the people that there will be a census.
Imagine it! You're sitting there making bread with your future in-laws and your pregnant fiancé and some soldiers come and tell you that you've got to get moving soon! Imagine Joseph's anxiety. So he turns to her dad, thinking "How am I going to tell him I have to leave and travel because I'm not from here?" Yikes! How are these two going to make it through this?! A journey of that length could have led to Joseph never coming back. What if he got killed or hurt? And now he has to leave a pregnant fiancé?! Little does he know, but she's going to insist on coming with him and THAT journey will be better than anything they could have ever envisioned!
December 11-Hands and Feet
Yesterday, we took a look at how Joseph might have felt when the soldiers arrived to announce the census. We considered what it might have been like for this man to think about the sudden change to his situation and we pondered what his feelings might have been regarding his next step. Today we are now two weeks from the arrival of the greatest gift known to mankind. Let’s take a look at what might be happening today.
Joseph has to find a way to approach Mary’s dad, Joachim, about the truth regarding the census. I imagine that stirring sensation in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about what to say. He looks across the table at Mary during a family lunchtime. Her snood and mitpachat cover her hair and he is left to gaze in wonder at her profile. He’s about to incite her father’s wrath. Joseph swallows and opens his mouth to speak. He describes his home city, Jerusalem. He remembers the peace on quiet nights and the way the dust filled the cracks in the home of his birth. As he tells Mary and her family what must be done, he watches their eyes grow wide. Oddly, Joachim does not reproach him. Mary’s father understands what it is like for a man in these times. He must do what is right and report to be counted.
Mary, on the other hand, stares at Joseph openly. She does not speak. There is a quiet reservation about her but Joseph senses determination. What is she thinking? How will they survive this? What if something happens on his journey? He would be leaving her alone and with a child that everyone already knows is not his. Joseph is torn between his duties as a man and his duties as a would-be father and husband.
How often are we torn between what is happening around us and what is happening in heaven’s realm? We often have trouble picking out the difference between the two. Sometimes, more often than we think, the two are inseparable. Heaven’s hand touches Earth daily. Now, unbeknownst to the world, heaven’s feet are about to grace it’s roads.
December 12 – A Mother’s Heart
Joseph has revealed what must be done and he has escaped angering Joachim. While we know we are simply imagining what “might” have happened, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume that Mary’s father would understand what another man has to do, especially if it meant being obedient to the law. But, what about Mary? What does she say about all of this?
They are walking, side by side, down the busy street of town. As they walk, they ignore the stares of the neighbors. “There she goes” they say. “What DOES he think he’s doing?” they whisper. The two of them, lost in their own thoughts, fail to notice this time. Joseph has been worried since yesterday. What is she thinking? Is she angry? Is she scared for him?
“Joseph, my place is with you,” she says. “You are my husband and it is only right that I be at your side.”
Joseph begins to protest but she stops in her tracks and turns. One look into her eyes and he knows there is nothing to be said on the matter. She has decided. Even in her current state she will go with him. Without another word, they turn towards her house to tell her family.
Mary stops on the threshold and touches the doorpost. Her delicate hand brushes the mezuzah and she quickly prays. As Joseph passes, he does the same. Once inside, Mary wastes no time telling her mother, Anne, she has decided to join her husband on his journey. There is ensuing protest and arguing. Each woman states her case and each woman is equally stagnant in her position. Joseph simply stands back, too smart to get in the middle.
Anne’s heart is breaking. Her daughter is in no state to travel. It is too soon to be letting go of her little girl. Anne can almost hear the childish squeals of laughter that once bounced off the walls of their home. As Anne looks up from the floor, she is taken aback by the woman standing before her. Mary is deep into her pregnancy and the look on her face is one of peace and determination. Anne falls silent. She knows it is time. She turns her head away in silent surrender. Mary breathes in a sigh of relief. Little does she know but, one day she will remember the anguish on her own mother’s face when she watches her Son begin His own treacherous journey. There is dust on Mary’s cheeks. There will be blood on His.
December 13- The Best Laid Plans
Everyone knows the plan and everyone seems to be on board. Today, as he works, Joseph is thinking about how they will travel, what roads they will take and how soon they should leave.
There is sweat in his left eye. It’s been burning since mid-day. Joseph continues to build on the house he is preparing for Mary and the child. He used to have friends who would stop and chat but no one seems to linger at the base of his ladder anymore. As he idly pictures the road between Nazareth and Jerusalem, a section of the straw Joseph was attaching to the roof falls to the ground. Suddenly all of his doubts and fears come crashing upon him. Joseph throws his hands in the air in frustration. “That’s it!” he says out loud. It’s proof! He isn’t fit to be a husband and father! What IS God thinking?!
Joseph climbs down off of his ladder and places his right hand on the Eastern wall of the house. His head hangs in defeat. All at once, his current situation becomes very real. He’s going to be a father! He starts to shake and he can feel his heart racing. He’s not ready for this! He thought he had at least a few years before something like this would be happening. God sure has strange timing. But, if there’s anything Joseph is learning, it’s that he has no clue what God has in store for his life. God only asks for obedience in this time. Faith? Joseph knows he doesn’t have enough of that. Some days he has a hard enough time believing that the sky won’t fall on his head. Other days, he wonders if he is hearing God right. Most of the time, he can barely manage enough strength to get out of bed. He’s definitely short on faith. But obedience? Right now he has obedience in abundance. He can listen and he can follow.
December 10 – The Census Announced
There are 15 days between now and Christmas. I often try to picture what life might have really been like for the One who went before me. What were Mary and Joseph doing on this day, thousands of years ago? I looked into how long it would have taken for Joseph and Mary to make the trip from Bethlehem to Nazareth. It's an 80 mile journey and some people guess that it would have taken a caravan of healthy young people about 4 days to walk it. With Mary pregnant and on a donkey, the journey could have lasted as long as a week for the two of them. SO, we know they haven't left yet. In fact, they're probably sitting around Nazareth right now as soldiers ride into town to tell the people that there will be a census.
Imagine it! You're sitting there making bread with your future in-laws and your pregnant fiancé and some soldiers come and tell you that you've got to get moving soon! Imagine Joseph's anxiety. So he turns to her dad, thinking "How am I going to tell him I have to leave and travel because I'm not from here?" Yikes! How are these two going to make it through this?! A journey of that length could have led to Joseph never coming back. What if he got killed or hurt? And now he has to leave a pregnant fiancé?! Little does he know, but she's going to insist on coming with him and THAT journey will be better than anything they could have ever envisioned!
December 11-Hands and Feet
Yesterday, we took a look at how Joseph might have felt when the soldiers arrived to announce the census. We considered what it might have been like for this man to think about the sudden change to his situation and we pondered what his feelings might have been regarding his next step. Today we are now two weeks from the arrival of the greatest gift known to mankind. Let’s take a look at what might be happening today.
Joseph has to find a way to approach Mary’s dad, Joachim, about the truth regarding the census. I imagine that stirring sensation in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about what to say. He looks across the table at Mary during a family lunchtime. Her snood and mitpachat cover her hair and he is left to gaze in wonder at her profile. He’s about to incite her father’s wrath. Joseph swallows and opens his mouth to speak. He describes his home city, Jerusalem. He remembers the peace on quiet nights and the way the dust filled the cracks in the home of his birth. As he tells Mary and her family what must be done, he watches their eyes grow wide. Oddly, Joachim does not reproach him. Mary’s father understands what it is like for a man in these times. He must do what is right and report to be counted.
Mary, on the other hand, stares at Joseph openly. She does not speak. There is a quiet reservation about her but Joseph senses determination. What is she thinking? How will they survive this? What if something happens on his journey? He would be leaving her alone and with a child that everyone already knows is not his. Joseph is torn between his duties as a man and his duties as a would-be father and husband.
How often are we torn between what is happening around us and what is happening in heaven’s realm? We often have trouble picking out the difference between the two. Sometimes, more often than we think, the two are inseparable. Heaven’s hand touches Earth daily. Now, unbeknownst to the world, heaven’s feet are about to grace it’s roads.
December 12 – A Mother’s Heart
Joseph has revealed what must be done and he has escaped angering Joachim. While we know we are simply imagining what “might” have happened, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume that Mary’s father would understand what another man has to do, especially if it meant being obedient to the law. But, what about Mary? What does she say about all of this?
They are walking, side by side, down the busy street of town. As they walk, they ignore the stares of the neighbors. “There she goes” they say. “What DOES he think he’s doing?” they whisper. The two of them, lost in their own thoughts, fail to notice this time. Joseph has been worried since yesterday. What is she thinking? Is she angry? Is she scared for him?
“Joseph, my place is with you,” she says. “You are my husband and it is only right that I be at your side.”
Joseph begins to protest but she stops in her tracks and turns. One look into her eyes and he knows there is nothing to be said on the matter. She has decided. Even in her current state she will go with him. Without another word, they turn towards her house to tell her family.
Mary stops on the threshold and touches the doorpost. Her delicate hand brushes the mezuzah and she quickly prays. As Joseph passes, he does the same. Once inside, Mary wastes no time telling her mother, Anne, she has decided to join her husband on his journey. There is ensuing protest and arguing. Each woman states her case and each woman is equally stagnant in her position. Joseph simply stands back, too smart to get in the middle.
Anne’s heart is breaking. Her daughter is in no state to travel. It is too soon to be letting go of her little girl. Anne can almost hear the childish squeals of laughter that once bounced off the walls of their home. As Anne looks up from the floor, she is taken aback by the woman standing before her. Mary is deep into her pregnancy and the look on her face is one of peace and determination. Anne falls silent. She knows it is time. She turns her head away in silent surrender. Mary breathes in a sigh of relief. Little does she know but, one day she will remember the anguish on her own mother’s face when she watches her Son begin His own treacherous journey. There is dust on Mary’s cheeks. There will be blood on His.
December 13- The Best Laid Plans
Everyone knows the plan and everyone seems to be on board. Today, as he works, Joseph is thinking about how they will travel, what roads they will take and how soon they should leave.
There is sweat in his left eye. It’s been burning since mid-day. Joseph continues to build on the house he is preparing for Mary and the child. He used to have friends who would stop and chat but no one seems to linger at the base of his ladder anymore. As he idly pictures the road between Nazareth and Jerusalem, a section of the straw Joseph was attaching to the roof falls to the ground. Suddenly all of his doubts and fears come crashing upon him. Joseph throws his hands in the air in frustration. “That’s it!” he says out loud. It’s proof! He isn’t fit to be a husband and father! What IS God thinking?!
Joseph climbs down off of his ladder and places his right hand on the Eastern wall of the house. His head hangs in defeat. All at once, his current situation becomes very real. He’s going to be a father! He starts to shake and he can feel his heart racing. He’s not ready for this! He thought he had at least a few years before something like this would be happening. God sure has strange timing. But, if there’s anything Joseph is learning, it’s that he has no clue what God has in store for his life. God only asks for obedience in this time. Faith? Joseph knows he doesn’t have enough of that. Some days he has a hard enough time believing that the sky won’t fall on his head. Other days, he wonders if he is hearing God right. Most of the time, he can barely manage enough strength to get out of bed. He’s definitely short on faith. But obedience? Right now he has obedience in abundance. He can listen and he can follow.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Three Realizations
I had several epiphanies tonight at church. The message was on asking God to expand our faith and the pastor was relaying memories from some of his mission trips. He told wonderful stories and I found myself remembering some similar experiences from past missions I have been on. At the end of the service, he shard a provocative video in which a foreign minister outlined the extent Christian's in countries like China and North Korea will go just to meet together and worship God. The pastor encouraged us to not take our position in this world for granted. That made me think about my current circumstances and I came to some important conclusions, the nature of which surprised even me.
First, I am reminded on a daily basis that my current stage in my career gives me the chance to be part of people's lives at important and momentous times. This is a key opportunity for me to share what God has done for me and what God wants to do for them. I never push this talk on anyone because my training demands that I be culturally sensitive and obey certain rules but God has (and will) provide those perfect moments. This requires that I try to always listen and it doesn't allow for much room to hesitate when He moves. Now, some of you may be saying, "Duh. Don't you say you think about this all the time?" That's true. I do talk about this a lot. Still, it's hard to remember when I'm two patients behind, I have a stack of paperwork and I'm tired.
Second, being a doctor is going to open doors. I'm not sure what eventually being certified in Developmental Behavioral Pediatrics means in all of this but it's going to be fun finding out. Maybe this specialty will give me the chance to enter countries like North Korea. I'm sure they have children who need the kinds of evaluation and treatment I will be specialized to provide. This leads me to something I remembered during worship. The pastor talked about experiences he's had in the past. I found myself thinking about a dream I had many years ago. It went a little something like this.
I was walking through a garden. There was a man in front of me and he was pushing the branches of low lying trees and bushes out of the way. He was dressed in a white pair of pants and a short white coat. His hair was neatly trimmed in the fashion you see in most Asian countries. I could see the sandals on my feet and I was wearing a long skirt that went to my ankles. I was carrying a black bag that contained my stethoscope and other instruments. The man continued to lead the way through the garden and I followed behind him without question. At last we came upon a small clearing. In the shade of a large tree sat a gazebo and inside the gazebo buzzed a small group of children. I had been brought to examine them and I did so while we all laughed and smiled. The man in the white pants and coat then led me back to a home where I was to chat with the rich man whose children I had been sent to see. I sat across from the man while he asked me about my home in America, where I had studied and what I hoped to do in the future. He inquired about the health of his children and I had the opportunity to share a little about my faith and how I had found myself so far from the US. The visit was relatively uneventful and there the dream ended. For the longest time, the most important part of that dream was my chance to serve those children and share my faith with that man. Tonight, I realized something else. I was alone in that dream. I was ministering without a partner.
Which brings me to my third realization. Point blank: I am okay with being single. For many years after my divorce I wondered if God had a plan for a husband and family for me. I'm not saying He doesn't and I'm not saying I would throw away the opportunity if it ever presented itself. What I am saying is that I finally realize the potential behind being single. The things God is going to call me to do in the future will sometimes be dangerous. It will require travel, planning, money and personal sacrifice. As a single person, I can give those things without the added complication of worrying about a spouse or family. I sit here tonight writing instead of bathing a child and putting them to bed. I'll prepare for clinic tomorrow instead of packing lunches for school and work. The things I am going to be called to do will be much easier if I am not asking a spouse and children to sacrifice as well.
Does this mean that my heart is permanently changed? No. I loved being married. There was nothing like being part of that kind of team. I liked being a wife and I know in my heart of hearts that I am built to be lead in a very personal way by a spouse. I would really enjoy hearing a child laugh in my home. There is a place in my soul that still longs to kiss the top of a small child's head. The difference is, I can see the real benefit in my current situation.
God has taken my divorce, easily one of the most terrible things that has ever happened to me, and He's turned it into an opportunity for Him. So, when the pastor tonight reminded us to not take our current position in this world for granted, it made me stop and think about the unique place I am in. There are still days when I don't see it as ideal and there are moments when I long for companionship. Tonight has reminded me that that every situation fulfills a purpose. My ultimate desire is to serve God and, while I do that, He will expand my faith so I can step back and let Him fill in all the details.
First, I am reminded on a daily basis that my current stage in my career gives me the chance to be part of people's lives at important and momentous times. This is a key opportunity for me to share what God has done for me and what God wants to do for them. I never push this talk on anyone because my training demands that I be culturally sensitive and obey certain rules but God has (and will) provide those perfect moments. This requires that I try to always listen and it doesn't allow for much room to hesitate when He moves. Now, some of you may be saying, "Duh. Don't you say you think about this all the time?" That's true. I do talk about this a lot. Still, it's hard to remember when I'm two patients behind, I have a stack of paperwork and I'm tired.
Second, being a doctor is going to open doors. I'm not sure what eventually being certified in Developmental Behavioral Pediatrics means in all of this but it's going to be fun finding out. Maybe this specialty will give me the chance to enter countries like North Korea. I'm sure they have children who need the kinds of evaluation and treatment I will be specialized to provide. This leads me to something I remembered during worship. The pastor talked about experiences he's had in the past. I found myself thinking about a dream I had many years ago. It went a little something like this.
I was walking through a garden. There was a man in front of me and he was pushing the branches of low lying trees and bushes out of the way. He was dressed in a white pair of pants and a short white coat. His hair was neatly trimmed in the fashion you see in most Asian countries. I could see the sandals on my feet and I was wearing a long skirt that went to my ankles. I was carrying a black bag that contained my stethoscope and other instruments. The man continued to lead the way through the garden and I followed behind him without question. At last we came upon a small clearing. In the shade of a large tree sat a gazebo and inside the gazebo buzzed a small group of children. I had been brought to examine them and I did so while we all laughed and smiled. The man in the white pants and coat then led me back to a home where I was to chat with the rich man whose children I had been sent to see. I sat across from the man while he asked me about my home in America, where I had studied and what I hoped to do in the future. He inquired about the health of his children and I had the opportunity to share a little about my faith and how I had found myself so far from the US. The visit was relatively uneventful and there the dream ended. For the longest time, the most important part of that dream was my chance to serve those children and share my faith with that man. Tonight, I realized something else. I was alone in that dream. I was ministering without a partner.
Which brings me to my third realization. Point blank: I am okay with being single. For many years after my divorce I wondered if God had a plan for a husband and family for me. I'm not saying He doesn't and I'm not saying I would throw away the opportunity if it ever presented itself. What I am saying is that I finally realize the potential behind being single. The things God is going to call me to do in the future will sometimes be dangerous. It will require travel, planning, money and personal sacrifice. As a single person, I can give those things without the added complication of worrying about a spouse or family. I sit here tonight writing instead of bathing a child and putting them to bed. I'll prepare for clinic tomorrow instead of packing lunches for school and work. The things I am going to be called to do will be much easier if I am not asking a spouse and children to sacrifice as well.
Does this mean that my heart is permanently changed? No. I loved being married. There was nothing like being part of that kind of team. I liked being a wife and I know in my heart of hearts that I am built to be lead in a very personal way by a spouse. I would really enjoy hearing a child laugh in my home. There is a place in my soul that still longs to kiss the top of a small child's head. The difference is, I can see the real benefit in my current situation.
God has taken my divorce, easily one of the most terrible things that has ever happened to me, and He's turned it into an opportunity for Him. So, when the pastor tonight reminded us to not take our current position in this world for granted, it made me stop and think about the unique place I am in. There are still days when I don't see it as ideal and there are moments when I long for companionship. Tonight has reminded me that that every situation fulfills a purpose. My ultimate desire is to serve God and, while I do that, He will expand my faith so I can step back and let Him fill in all the details.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Famine, Feast and Faith
I went to church today for the first time in a long time. While I was worshipping, I had the following vision and I feel compelled to share it with you.
I was standing on a beach. The ocean stretched out in front me, blue and beautiful. Behind me loomed a tall mountain. I was hungry, more hungry than I have ever been in my life. Something inside told me there was a feast on top of that mountain. It was a feast so grand that I would never be hungry again. I gazed at the mountain and I was afraid. There were fires that lept high into the sky. I could hear wild animals and see their shadows move through the trees. There were poisonous plants dotting the paths. Raging rivers flowing down the mountain. In short, there was no easy way to the top. My decision was easy. I would have to find food somewhere else. I turned back to the beach in search of options.
In a very short while I came upon a picnic. On a red checkered blanket rested fruit so luscious I could feel my mouth begin to water. My stomach growled and I decided this would do just fine. There were pears twice the size of my fist, grapes dripping with juice, soft peaches and apples so red and ripe I could smell their fragrance from a distance. I picked up a pear and took a big bite. The taste was indescribable. As the juice ran down my chin I looked back up the mountain. This had been the right decision. I took another bite but I noticed something strange as I chewed. At first it was gritty. Then it was hard. As I continued to chew the taste simply disappeared. Suddenly, the piece of pear in my mouth seemed more like sand than fruit. I spit it out and, to my surprise, it was sand! I looked at the fruit in my hand only to discover it was a clump of beach. This had to be a mistake somehow so I dropped what I was holding and wiped my hand on my shirt. I reached for a clump of grapes. The first grape was like heaven. Succulent, sweet and moist, I held my head back and swallowed with satisfaction. The next grape was a little less satisfying. The third grape was terrible. The fourth grape was gritty and at last, again, I was eating and holding sand. I thew my handful down in disgust. In the spirit of insanity (expecting a different result) I picked up an apple. The same thing happened. I became very angry. I started pitching apples and pears and peaches into the ocean. I screamed at the sky and exhausted my self in frustration only to realize I was now more hungry than when I started. That's when I turned to face the mountain.
It was tall and mostly dark. The peak was enveloped in clouds. I did not even know for certain if it ever ended. Again, somewhere deep inside, a small voice reminded me "There's a feast at the top". I could smell the smoke from the fires and hear the growls from the animals. My hunger became so great and I knew I could die on this beach if I chose to. My head swam with doubt. The sand under my feet was hot and dry. I decided to start walking.
I passed through the foliage at the base and began to climb. My stomach was so empty, it felt like it was digesting itself. My mouth felt like dry parchment. At one point, I slipped and almost fell off the mountain. I held on by the tips of my fingers, crying out in fear until my toes brushed a ledge. It took hours to get back on my feet. Yes, I was scared, but there were moments of peace, too. The dirt between my toes was soft. The sun disappeared and heat was replaced by a cool, moist breeze. I could see bears and wolves, snakes and mountain lions but they paid me no heed. I came upon a fire and a way through it presented itself. Raging rivers became babbling brooks and trickling streams that washed my feet and cooled me on my journey. I climbed for so many days that they all ran together. A fog developed as I passed through the cloud bank and I could barely see my own hand in front of my face. My exhaustion became tangible. Almost blind in the fog and deaf to anything but the sound of my pounding heart in my ears, I considered quitting. Then it happened.
My leg brushed something hard. My had reached out and I grasped the end of a table. I ran my left hand along the table and used it as guide. The table continued and continued. Its smooth wooden surface was cool and firm. The fog slowly lifted as I walked. The foliage disappeared and the sun came out overhead. I blinked in disbelief and used my right hand to shield my face. Heart pounding, gasping for breath, I lowered my hand. The view in front of me was overwhelming. The table seemed to never end and it had so many chairs around it that I lost count. The food was heaped high in the center and laid out on the plates. And the view - I could see the whole world all around me! I found my chair and sank into the cushion. I reached for my glass and drank deep of the water it held. I ate and was satisfied. No words can describe the tastes, smells, and textures of that feast.
As I chewed, I thought back on the journey. I remembered my foolish decision to try and be satisfied with what was easy, what was convenient. A path had been placed before me with an unspoken promise and I had tried to lean on what was seen only to be disappointed. In the end, none of the shadows or the dangers had mattered. Faith, not fear, had been the key. My provisions were far greater than my needs and all I had to do was believe.
I was standing on a beach. The ocean stretched out in front me, blue and beautiful. Behind me loomed a tall mountain. I was hungry, more hungry than I have ever been in my life. Something inside told me there was a feast on top of that mountain. It was a feast so grand that I would never be hungry again. I gazed at the mountain and I was afraid. There were fires that lept high into the sky. I could hear wild animals and see their shadows move through the trees. There were poisonous plants dotting the paths. Raging rivers flowing down the mountain. In short, there was no easy way to the top. My decision was easy. I would have to find food somewhere else. I turned back to the beach in search of options.
In a very short while I came upon a picnic. On a red checkered blanket rested fruit so luscious I could feel my mouth begin to water. My stomach growled and I decided this would do just fine. There were pears twice the size of my fist, grapes dripping with juice, soft peaches and apples so red and ripe I could smell their fragrance from a distance. I picked up a pear and took a big bite. The taste was indescribable. As the juice ran down my chin I looked back up the mountain. This had been the right decision. I took another bite but I noticed something strange as I chewed. At first it was gritty. Then it was hard. As I continued to chew the taste simply disappeared. Suddenly, the piece of pear in my mouth seemed more like sand than fruit. I spit it out and, to my surprise, it was sand! I looked at the fruit in my hand only to discover it was a clump of beach. This had to be a mistake somehow so I dropped what I was holding and wiped my hand on my shirt. I reached for a clump of grapes. The first grape was like heaven. Succulent, sweet and moist, I held my head back and swallowed with satisfaction. The next grape was a little less satisfying. The third grape was terrible. The fourth grape was gritty and at last, again, I was eating and holding sand. I thew my handful down in disgust. In the spirit of insanity (expecting a different result) I picked up an apple. The same thing happened. I became very angry. I started pitching apples and pears and peaches into the ocean. I screamed at the sky and exhausted my self in frustration only to realize I was now more hungry than when I started. That's when I turned to face the mountain.
It was tall and mostly dark. The peak was enveloped in clouds. I did not even know for certain if it ever ended. Again, somewhere deep inside, a small voice reminded me "There's a feast at the top". I could smell the smoke from the fires and hear the growls from the animals. My hunger became so great and I knew I could die on this beach if I chose to. My head swam with doubt. The sand under my feet was hot and dry. I decided to start walking.
I passed through the foliage at the base and began to climb. My stomach was so empty, it felt like it was digesting itself. My mouth felt like dry parchment. At one point, I slipped and almost fell off the mountain. I held on by the tips of my fingers, crying out in fear until my toes brushed a ledge. It took hours to get back on my feet. Yes, I was scared, but there were moments of peace, too. The dirt between my toes was soft. The sun disappeared and heat was replaced by a cool, moist breeze. I could see bears and wolves, snakes and mountain lions but they paid me no heed. I came upon a fire and a way through it presented itself. Raging rivers became babbling brooks and trickling streams that washed my feet and cooled me on my journey. I climbed for so many days that they all ran together. A fog developed as I passed through the cloud bank and I could barely see my own hand in front of my face. My exhaustion became tangible. Almost blind in the fog and deaf to anything but the sound of my pounding heart in my ears, I considered quitting. Then it happened.
My leg brushed something hard. My had reached out and I grasped the end of a table. I ran my left hand along the table and used it as guide. The table continued and continued. Its smooth wooden surface was cool and firm. The fog slowly lifted as I walked. The foliage disappeared and the sun came out overhead. I blinked in disbelief and used my right hand to shield my face. Heart pounding, gasping for breath, I lowered my hand. The view in front of me was overwhelming. The table seemed to never end and it had so many chairs around it that I lost count. The food was heaped high in the center and laid out on the plates. And the view - I could see the whole world all around me! I found my chair and sank into the cushion. I reached for my glass and drank deep of the water it held. I ate and was satisfied. No words can describe the tastes, smells, and textures of that feast.
As I chewed, I thought back on the journey. I remembered my foolish decision to try and be satisfied with what was easy, what was convenient. A path had been placed before me with an unspoken promise and I had tried to lean on what was seen only to be disappointed. In the end, none of the shadows or the dangers had mattered. Faith, not fear, had been the key. My provisions were far greater than my needs and all I had to do was believe.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
The View from the Top... and the Bottom... and the Side
Perspective. We could all use a little. Sometimes in life things happen and we find ourselves caught up, spun around, and knocked on our behinds. It hurts, but it happens. Funny thing is, if we never ended up sitting on our duffs we wouldn't gain the advantage of a new point of view.
I had a patient the other day who came into clinic wearing this beautiful vest. When I walked in the exam room I noticed it immediately. It was yellow, red, green, white, and black. From across the room it looked like crochet. The patient's mother said he had made the vest himself. I was even more amazed because this young man had some pretty severe disabilities. He does not talk and he will never be able to care for himself. We proceeded with the interview and, as we began to address her main reason for presenting today, I approached him for my physical exam. As I got closer I started noticing some new things about the vest. The individual threads were slightly rougher than I originally thought. The edges were a little less even. The colors were actually more varied up close than was evident from acorss the room. I reached out and touched the vest. It was not crochet. It was made out of... twist ties! Suddenly, what seemed amazing and beautiful was now astounding and inspiring. How long had this taken? There were thousands of twist ties comprising this vest. That's a lot of twisting! That's a lot of ties!
Perspective. Of course, it works in reverse too. Sometimes things seem so beautiful and so good and then we get a taste and... blech! I like to cook. Most of the time I'm successful but when I'm not, well, let's just say I bow my head and thank the Lord for delivery. Like the time I grilled fish for my parents. The dish came out looking like a magazine picture. We all sat down to dig in. The table looked nice. My mouth was watering. Mom, dad and I opened up for our first bites AAAAAND DISASTER! What I thought was garlic powder was actually onion powder! It was a short meal. My spices are labeled correctly now.
One person from scripture who I imagine gained A LOT of perspective was Eve. How did she end up deciding what was for dinner that night in Eden? Maybe it went a little something like this:
Adam: "What do you want for dinner?"
Eve: "I don't care."
Adam: "I know you have an opinion. What do you want?"
Eve (shrugs): "Really. I don't care."
Adam: "Okay. How about some oranges?"
Eve (examinng her hands): "Wellllll, oranges are niiiice. They have loads of vitamin C but the rind gets under my nails..."
Adam: "Okay, what do YOU want?"
Eve (shakes head and purses lips): "I don't care."
Adam (exasperated and throwing his hands in the air): "See! I can't take it! Every night, it's the same conversation! You're on your own for dinner, woman! I'll meet you back at this tree in an hour!"
So he stomps off and the rest is history. Eve meets the serpent and now we all weed our gardens, work our butts off, and have to live through sweltering summers like this one. I bet in her heart of hearts Eve never again wanted to leave Adam's side and she sure as heck never hesitated to voice her opinion again!
Speaking of hearts - the perspective of the heart is tricky. My heart recently gained a new point of view. Do we love freely and take our chances or do we protect ourselves and love only when it is safe? I've always voted for "love freely" and, despite recent events, I think I'll still lean that way. Jesus loved freely. I know, it's waaay over used, but let's look at Corinthians.
1 Corinthians 13:4-8 "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away."
No where in that passage does it say we need to worry about what will happen to the love we give to people. Unlike money or time or greeting cards, the capacity of our hearts increases with each incriment we give out. Sometimes it hurts but that's okay. In 1 Peter 4:8 we see the command "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins". It's like a drop of water in a vast pond! Who knows what shores the ripples will touch! Love is the only thing in existance that gets bigger with the more you give. I will not be afraid to give it freely and I'm thankful for that point of view.
I had a patient the other day who came into clinic wearing this beautiful vest. When I walked in the exam room I noticed it immediately. It was yellow, red, green, white, and black. From across the room it looked like crochet. The patient's mother said he had made the vest himself. I was even more amazed because this young man had some pretty severe disabilities. He does not talk and he will never be able to care for himself. We proceeded with the interview and, as we began to address her main reason for presenting today, I approached him for my physical exam. As I got closer I started noticing some new things about the vest. The individual threads were slightly rougher than I originally thought. The edges were a little less even. The colors were actually more varied up close than was evident from acorss the room. I reached out and touched the vest. It was not crochet. It was made out of... twist ties! Suddenly, what seemed amazing and beautiful was now astounding and inspiring. How long had this taken? There were thousands of twist ties comprising this vest. That's a lot of twisting! That's a lot of ties!
Perspective. Of course, it works in reverse too. Sometimes things seem so beautiful and so good and then we get a taste and... blech! I like to cook. Most of the time I'm successful but when I'm not, well, let's just say I bow my head and thank the Lord for delivery. Like the time I grilled fish for my parents. The dish came out looking like a magazine picture. We all sat down to dig in. The table looked nice. My mouth was watering. Mom, dad and I opened up for our first bites AAAAAND DISASTER! What I thought was garlic powder was actually onion powder! It was a short meal. My spices are labeled correctly now.
One person from scripture who I imagine gained A LOT of perspective was Eve. How did she end up deciding what was for dinner that night in Eden? Maybe it went a little something like this:
Adam: "What do you want for dinner?"
Eve: "I don't care."
Adam: "I know you have an opinion. What do you want?"
Eve (shrugs): "Really. I don't care."
Adam: "Okay. How about some oranges?"
Eve (examinng her hands): "Wellllll, oranges are niiiice. They have loads of vitamin C but the rind gets under my nails..."
Adam: "Okay, what do YOU want?"
Eve (shakes head and purses lips): "I don't care."
Adam (exasperated and throwing his hands in the air): "See! I can't take it! Every night, it's the same conversation! You're on your own for dinner, woman! I'll meet you back at this tree in an hour!"
So he stomps off and the rest is history. Eve meets the serpent and now we all weed our gardens, work our butts off, and have to live through sweltering summers like this one. I bet in her heart of hearts Eve never again wanted to leave Adam's side and she sure as heck never hesitated to voice her opinion again!
Speaking of hearts - the perspective of the heart is tricky. My heart recently gained a new point of view. Do we love freely and take our chances or do we protect ourselves and love only when it is safe? I've always voted for "love freely" and, despite recent events, I think I'll still lean that way. Jesus loved freely. I know, it's waaay over used, but let's look at Corinthians.
1 Corinthians 13:4-8 "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away."
No where in that passage does it say we need to worry about what will happen to the love we give to people. Unlike money or time or greeting cards, the capacity of our hearts increases with each incriment we give out. Sometimes it hurts but that's okay. In 1 Peter 4:8 we see the command "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins". It's like a drop of water in a vast pond! Who knows what shores the ripples will touch! Love is the only thing in existance that gets bigger with the more you give. I will not be afraid to give it freely and I'm thankful for that point of view.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Love and Service
So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.
What does it mean to truly serve others? I find it odd that people are taken aback when they encounter an act of genuine service. I was with a friend of mine today and I apologised for not refilling his plate myself when he was at my apartment. His response was, "You're over the top. I haven't encountered anyone who wants to do things like that in a long time. Maybe my Great Grandmother... but no one else."
That made me feel sad. Is service fast becoming a forgotten art? My first instinct is no. For example, as a society today, we have a new appreciation for military service. The men and women who serve our country deserve no less than our utmost respect. They are wonderful examples of ultimate sacrifice but there are many other ways to serve. There's also the pastor, the firefighter, the nurse, the dog walker, the trash collector, the waitress and the barber - just to name a few. These are all jobs of service. In fact, according to the US Department of Treasury, service industries account for 68% of U.S. GDP and four out of five U.S. jobs. That's a lot of us in service! So, it begs the question, why aren't we better at it?
Many people enter the jobs I mentioned above with the desire to help others. Along the way, those motives might change. Sometimes we're compensated with money, other services or the knowledge that someone owes us a debt. Does it still count as service if we're compensated in some way? I think it still counts. Compensation for services rendered doesn't change the act but it might change the motive. Even volunteering has changed in recent years. When you ask the average high school or college student why they've volunteered recently, you'll hear all kinds of responses. Volunteer service is almost as important on a CV or application as past job experience or grades. Volunteerism is "popular" and even considered "trendy" in some circles. There are more ways to volunteer today than there were 10 years ago and, according to the U.S. Economic News Release, more people volunteer every day. In short, more people are working in service, more people are volunteering and the numbers are increasing all the time. This is all very reassuring, but why is my friend surprised when I want to serve him in my home?
Jesus surprised the disciples when he washed their feet (John 13:1-17). Of course, Simon Peter protested the idea that his Lord should do this but Jesus corrected him. This act of service was meant to be an example for how we should all serve each other. No one is above serving his fellow man and true service should come from love. 1 Peter 1:22 says "Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart". I think the difference is love.
The bible mentions four kinds of love: Eros, Storge, Phileo, and Agape. Of course, we all know Eros. That's everywhere. It's on the TV, it's in a magazine, it's on the street. It BELONGS in the marriage bed but that's a whole other blog post. Phileo is for our friends and Agape is that supreme love that comes from God. We can and should strive for Agape for our fellow man. Storge is a little less discussed. Storge is what we are encouraged to have for our fellow man. It is a supportive love that I think comes out of practicing Phileo and working towards Agape. Over and over in scripture we are implored to love one another. True service is the ultimate expression of love. When we refill our friends plate, when we open the door for a stranger, when we clear the neighbor's driveway of snow - we are saying I love you. I want to encourage you all to serve, and love, each other today. In big ways, in small ways, in expected and unexpected ways, serve and be served. Love and be loved.
Philippians 2:1-4 ESV
What does it mean to truly serve others? I find it odd that people are taken aback when they encounter an act of genuine service. I was with a friend of mine today and I apologised for not refilling his plate myself when he was at my apartment. His response was, "You're over the top. I haven't encountered anyone who wants to do things like that in a long time. Maybe my Great Grandmother... but no one else."
That made me feel sad. Is service fast becoming a forgotten art? My first instinct is no. For example, as a society today, we have a new appreciation for military service. The men and women who serve our country deserve no less than our utmost respect. They are wonderful examples of ultimate sacrifice but there are many other ways to serve. There's also the pastor, the firefighter, the nurse, the dog walker, the trash collector, the waitress and the barber - just to name a few. These are all jobs of service. In fact, according to the US Department of Treasury, service industries account for 68% of U.S. GDP and four out of five U.S. jobs. That's a lot of us in service! So, it begs the question, why aren't we better at it?
Many people enter the jobs I mentioned above with the desire to help others. Along the way, those motives might change. Sometimes we're compensated with money, other services or the knowledge that someone owes us a debt. Does it still count as service if we're compensated in some way? I think it still counts. Compensation for services rendered doesn't change the act but it might change the motive. Even volunteering has changed in recent years. When you ask the average high school or college student why they've volunteered recently, you'll hear all kinds of responses. Volunteer service is almost as important on a CV or application as past job experience or grades. Volunteerism is "popular" and even considered "trendy" in some circles. There are more ways to volunteer today than there were 10 years ago and, according to the U.S. Economic News Release, more people volunteer every day. In short, more people are working in service, more people are volunteering and the numbers are increasing all the time. This is all very reassuring, but why is my friend surprised when I want to serve him in my home?
Jesus surprised the disciples when he washed their feet (John 13:1-17). Of course, Simon Peter protested the idea that his Lord should do this but Jesus corrected him. This act of service was meant to be an example for how we should all serve each other. No one is above serving his fellow man and true service should come from love. 1 Peter 1:22 says "Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart". I think the difference is love.
The bible mentions four kinds of love: Eros, Storge, Phileo, and Agape. Of course, we all know Eros. That's everywhere. It's on the TV, it's in a magazine, it's on the street. It BELONGS in the marriage bed but that's a whole other blog post. Phileo is for our friends and Agape is that supreme love that comes from God. We can and should strive for Agape for our fellow man. Storge is a little less discussed. Storge is what we are encouraged to have for our fellow man. It is a supportive love that I think comes out of practicing Phileo and working towards Agape. Over and over in scripture we are implored to love one another. True service is the ultimate expression of love. When we refill our friends plate, when we open the door for a stranger, when we clear the neighbor's driveway of snow - we are saying I love you. I want to encourage you all to serve, and love, each other today. In big ways, in small ways, in expected and unexpected ways, serve and be served. Love and be loved.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)