A Time to Trust

Trust has been a topic of discussion in several scenarios I have found myself in recently... How to know when to trust someone who has hurt you... How to have faith when things don't seem to go the way you prayed for and believed for. Certainly the institutions and systems of our day have failed us!

Trusting people has always been risky. I have read numerous reports of people doing things others never thought they would; both good and bad. The newspapers and TV news are full of stories of people murdering others, or doing some other henious crime totally against their nature, according to those that thought they knew them. There are people in prisons wondering themselves why they did what they did.

A moment of rage. A moment of panic. A decision not to take medications, not to listen to counselors, not to do the right thing...all of these can lead to regrettable actions. These actions often have monumentous consequences.

Sometimes I do not even trust myself. I know that, given the right set of circumstances, I too, could make a stupid decision.

That is why Jesus encouraged us to spend time daily with Him. To take up our cross, daily and follow Him. We cannot afford, as people, to try to make it on our own for even one day. We get tired. We get discouraged. We miss understand God's love and plan. We get angry. We get hurt. We get lonely. We start to listen to the many voices around us that do not honor God. And those voices can sound reasonable, leading us astray.

These times are hard. Many are facing the loss of jobs, security, and even homes. It is tempting to become angry when God doesn't choose to bail us out, in our way of thinking. It is easy to look at the situation of the moment and forget He has a greater plan that encompasses eternity.

Who can we trust? Only God. How can we trust? By getting to know Him more each day through prayer and reading His Word. It is difficult to trust in Someone we cannot see. It is hard to understand why our prayers are not always answered in the way we requested.

But, what have we besides trust? History has proven that humans are a resilient creation. We can trust in ourselves. We can trust in each other. We can trust in an unseen God. History has also proven which One is the best choice! I am choosing this day to serve and trust the Lord!

Who can we trust?

Blacklight of Love

Working in the health care field can be quite challenging. It has great rewards, grreat disappointments, great lessons. Caring for others, no matter how diligently one tires, is not an easy task! There are many facets of life involved and meeting the demands of others challenging in many ways. Among the cautions that one must take, is special car of what healthcare professionals call "infection control".

In the facility where I worked classes were available to convince us of the severity of this issue. The most simple concept was proper hand-washing. We all liked to think that this was an obvious, easily accomplished task. Yet, evidence of the need for more education kept surfacing. The nursing department purchased a divice to help us realize our inadequacies in proper technique. It consisted of a black florescent light, which, when hands had been washed with a special chemical and placed beneath this light, would reveal all themssed spots. All the germs still lufking in the crevices of the knuckles, nails, and such.

We didn't particularly like this dirll becuase to our horror, there were usually many germs proudly displaying themselves on our hands. At times, it felt like we would never get it right!

I thought about this exercise and realized it related to my life. There were ties when I rushed though life, barely taking time to worry about what might be clean and right and what might be wrong or dirty. And there were times when i tried to wash away the grime of life, attitudes, opinions, and failures. And thinking I had done a good job rising about my mistakes, I went headlong into the duties of life.

I often wondered why it seemed more poison, and difficulties seemed to arrive. I thought I was doing everything I could; all that I knew to do. It was then that I realized that God allowed the doffoculties, the dark times, because i needed to see that I, in myself, am hopeless to get "it" right. I can wash. I can change my outward behavior. i can hhold my tongue, donform my actions, but it is not enought to change my heart. It is not enought to bring me true peace inside, nor true joy and happiness.

Just like that black light revelaed germs otherwise unseen, yet posiing great danger, so the difficulties, things I did not understand, revealed the inadequacies of my self-righteousness. God, in His great mercy andlove, allowed dark times, blacklights of His love, to examine my heart and reveal my true character.

But He doesn't leave it there. He doesn't say, "Go back and wash again and get it right!" He reaches down, takes my hands, and washes me with the only thing that can truly make me clean...His own blood. the blood that Jesus allowed to spill for me. It dawned on me that the day Jesus died for sinful mankind must have seemed like a dark day in God's eyes. Even though He knew the glorious outcome, He also felt the pain adn agony His sone was feeling that moment. He knew there would be many who would reject HIm, mock Him, despise Him. Yet His love compelled Him to walk through that dark hour for us. How can I complain when He chooses to allow things I would call "dark" to shed His "light" on my life? How can I resist letting HIm wash me, challenge me, grow in me? I thanked Him daily for that blacklight at work, protecting me from germs. But i praise Him for eternity for that dark day He endured for me. And I welcome the dark light of His total Lordship in my life.

Camel or sheep?

Camel or Sheep?

I have come to Your bubbling water,
For I am thirsty in my soul.
I have tasted of Your clover sweet;
My spirit is made whole.

While some try life without You,
I must linger near.
Your presence is my sustenance;
I need my Shepherd here.

For I am not a camel, Lord,
Can't store enough for days.
I am just a simple sheep
Who daily finds Your ways.

You meet me every morning,
And the water of Your Word
Fills me with Your Spirit;
Your voice, I know I've heard.

And out across the desert
when life gets hard to bear,
I know I'm not a canel, Lord,
I'm a sheep whose life You spare.

When the heat of life is on my back,
And hot tears sre on dry ground,
I know there is a river, Lord,
that in You can be found.

So may I not act like a camel,
Coming to the river's flow
Only when I thirst inside,
But let me daily in You grow!

Your Whisper a poem

Your Whisper

All I need is a whisper for You, Lord,
To calm this raging storm inside.
When doubts and fears have all assialed me,
And my tears have all been cried.

A whisper to my heart, "I love you!"
A whisper to my spirit, "It's okay!"
A whisper to my mind, "Be still now."
All I need is to hear what You say!

Life's trial's, like blowing sand,
Blind eyes and make it hard to see,
Confusion shouts resounding condemnation.
I need Your whisper, while I'm on bended knee.

When friends misunderstand, even forsake me,
And the enemy plot heavily my demise,
A simple whisper from Your Spirit
Quickly erases all the "why?"s.

A whisper to my heart, "I love you."
A whisper to my spirit, "It's okay."
A whisper to my mind, "Be still now."
All I need is to hear what YOU say!

Scraps

I dreamed I looked at the mess in the living room of my life.
There, in many pieced lay the fragments of my days.
Fragments unraveling with failure;
Fragments of disappointment and shame.
Some were held together, it seemed, by sheer fortitude,
but lacked purpose or reason.

One piece over there on the couch,
Another on the table.
A piece representing the acceptance of others lay crumpled on the floor.
My eyes searched for success, for some small resemblance of purpose.

I caught sight of a lacy fragment,
a bright spot!
something better than failure...
I reached for it with a trembling hand and picked it up.
It fell elusively from my grasp, and landed on the floor.
It too, was less than perfect...
It was wrinkled a bit and soiled with think of opinions.
ALAS!
The more I viewed the mess, the more despondency grew within.

But then appeared a steady Hand, who began to pick up the pieces.
one by one,
gently brushing them off and gathering them into one place...
within the palm of that Hand.
Then, with quick, steady strokes, the Hand sewed the pieces together,
with cords that could not be broken;
threads that never go bard;
Strands of love!

Then I noticed that the Hand was scarred...
permanently...with nail prints!
suddenly i sway, not a mess; not ugly, wrinkled scrap pieces,
but a beautiful quilt!

He had taken all the plain, the mundane, the failures, the meaningless...
and touched it.
He had grouped all my mistakes and shortcomings;
all my failures and little, soiled successes, into one beautiful masterpiece!

It came to me, that without the fragments,
without the mistakes, there would be no quilt...
no comforter to cover the coldness.

Now there is purpose to the scraps of life...
Reasons even,
For I realized there was apttern to the quilt...
Not of pain and dispair,
But of peace, joy, and hope,...
A perfect pattern of the Cross,
Though not yet complete in my life, gorgeous just the same!

"Unforgive"

I heard David say it in a prayer. I am sure he did not mean it the way he spoke, but it stuck in my mind as if a gripping vice.
"Help me, Lord. when I want to unforgive."
I thought I had little problem with forgiveness. I had had plenty of opportunity in my life to practice it. But when he said that word, "unforgive", I realized that "forgive" is an action- a verb! I had heard a lot of sermons addressing unforgiveness, as a noun, and had made great efforts in my life to forgive in the actionary sense. But, here i was, faced with the reality that if I could actively "forgive", then could I not actively "unforgive?" Could I not take back the forgiveness I had extended to someone? My mind raced over the "forgiven" people in my life. I had to admit that the recollection of some of them brought a twinge of pain. I had indeed extended forgiveness, to the best of my ability, to these "offenders". But had I inadvertently taken it back by also not extending the grace of God to them?

I thought I had let their offenses go and truly tired to forget. yet, i secretly harbored ill-will, hoping their deeds would come back to them and they would learn how much they had hurt me. I knew that when they were suffering that it was from seeds they had sown. I consciously chose to keep forgiving each I remembered, but also consciouls chose to "unforgive" each time I allowed my thoughts to dig up details to rerlish the pain, even if only briefly. I was in a tug-og-war within myself. I failed toextend God's grace, give them space to be human, and to accept that they could, and probably would, hurt again.

God accepts us and loves us unconditionally. He freely gives us forgiveness and acceptance, know full-well that we will fail again. He doesn't keep His forgiveness at arm's length, waiting to see if we will fall once more and five Him reason to take back His love and forgiveness. He doesn't bring disaster and destruction from the seemds we have sown.

I sometimes have that mentality with God. He is too holy and righteous to go back on His word, yet I continue to feel unworthy and rejected. I live as though I am still unforgiven adn being punished. As though there were some way I could make up for my mistakes. I realized that when I consicously made a decision to forgive and leave it at His feet, allowing that person to err again and still be loved by me, that it was oonly then that i began to understand grace. God never has even thought again about my sins, once confessed and turned away from. He has never brought them up to me again, though I have, too many times. And He does not remember the sins of my neighbors who offended me either and is willing to restore both of us to a relationship with Him as if we had never sinned before!

He made a decision to forgive, actively, by the death of Jesus Christ on the cross. Hemade that decision for me. He mnade that decision for all those who have offended me and those that will offend in the future. He has never decided to "unforgive". Let me be more like Him every day!

The Snowball Effect

The snow falls softly to the ground, bringing a refreshing briskness to the air, almost an energizing feeling. Perhaps that is why it is so much for me to play in the snow. It cseems intriguing how from one little handful of snowflakes, an entire snowman can be born. By rolling a small snowball in the freshly fallen snow, I can create a solide and long-lasting creature. But this is not a one-time "roll". I must continue rolling until I get the ice sculpture that attracts attention and creates a lot of enjoyment.

Trust is a lot like a snowball, I believe. It starts in a refreshing relationship, builds over time and experience into something quite solid and attractive. But, like a snow sculpture, it needs continual replenishing and consistent atmosphere...the atmosphere of love.

I have gotten over zealous in the rolling of a snowball! I have also had my snowball succumb to a small avalanche resulting in it rolling out of control only to splat at the bottom of the hill, shattering into many pieces. How can I put that back together again? Can those same snowflakes, now dirty and melting, be restored to the great snowball it had been before?

When trust is broken and the avalanches of life have caused a shattering of my confidence, how can I put my faith back together? Can I reassemble every experience that led me to have this trust?

When I looked that the ruins of the "snowball of turst", all splatterred on the ground, I cried out to the giver of the snow, to the One whom I trusted as a child.
"No," I said. "I can't put it back together, Lord. All I have known and trusted in lies in a dirty mess. I cannot possibly find even one snowflake to begin to make
the snowball over again."
Once my trust was shattered by shakings not invited, I could see no hope of restoration.

Then I heard His voice! "Move up a little higher, my child. Move up into my arms. Move up where there is fresh snow and anoiting. Spend time on My mountain and together we can find those snowflakes and begin again."

I realized that it does not matter what man or woman or tragedy has done to me. It matters only what i do with them. I must leave the mess, the judgments, the hurt, in the valley, and move to the mountain of God for new beginnings. And if those who have caused the avalanche choose to move up higher to His mountain too, we can re-establish that trust- first in God and then in one another. But it is not my doing that will make their decision, but the sweet drawing of His spirit.

I will move up higher, Lord, for what You say is truly all that matters. Let me be the one whom YOu use to set the snowball effect of rising above circumstances and entering into the fresh snowfall of His Spirit.