Believing In Signs And Wondering About Significance

Indigo Bunting SignsMany times I’ve wondered if something I just experienced, whatever I just witnessed and seen with my very own eyes were signs toward a pending decision, an absent person or an action I should perform.

I’ve heard others tell stories about having a “strong sense” about something and arguing in their head about acting on the encouraging thought.  Just yesterday I was told of a woman who was about to leave a room with other people when she had this sudden prodding to go over and pray with a specific someone.  Recently I was told of an experience when a man was driving past a gas station and his spirit prompted him to go pay for someone’s tank of gas.

While these examples are encouraging an action, what about those experiences that prompt a remembrance?  These have a particular mystery attached to them that cause a sense of wonder regarding their significance.  Things seen such as a shooting star, a penny, a red-bird, a floating feather — all provide a measure of curiosity.  There may be a significant experience specific to you prompting you to remember a moment, a person or a place.

We read in the Scripture many times God uses experiences to remind his people of something.  Signs in the Bible are typically taken seriously and their significance is profound with much to be considered.  Take, for instance, the dove on Noah’s Ark returning with an olive branch.  Let’s not forget the dramatic burning bush!  Remember the ravens?  They provided food in the desert.  Perhaps the greatest sign, and certainly most historic, was the bright star leading the way for the wise men as they journeyed to the birthplace of Christ.

Signs are always around us and our attentiveness to the mystery and wonder of them is something that if ignored, the message will be missed forever.  Yesterday I’m grateful for being attentive to see perhaps the only thing that would have caused me to stop and pay attention.

As I was leaving my dad’s house, I saw for the very first time in my life a rarely seen Indigo Bunting.  It’s a small bird, bright blue with a song that is majestic and undeniably different.  I have always wanted to see one.  I know too, it was my late mom’s favorite bird.  And there it was, right in front of me, singing to the top of its little lungs.  Expecting it to fly away, I stopped to take it all in.  And then it escorted me to the bottom of the driveway.

I was in total awe and wonder, for I knew this was one of the many signs mom was near.

Another Visit To The Hospital For A Parent

I’m finding today a bit surreal with another visit to the hospital, except this time it’s with dad.

Approximately five years ago the University of Tennessee Medical Center was home for mom.  They cared for her cancer treatments and truly were the best in every way.  As a cancer survivor, mom grew in strength and confidence and this I attribute to her care on UTMC.  However, we all sadly lost mom as the treatments took a toll on her body years following her remission.

Now I’m sitting in the waiting room of the same hospital, except this time it’s for dad.  Results are not conclusive, but it could be bladder cancer.  I’m writing this as he is in recovery and tissue samples of the tumors they removed are being tested.

I feel like there is more than just tumors being tested here with me.  It’s emotionally challenging at best and the images of doctors, waiting rooms, medical conversations and that whole medical power of attorney thing is taking it’s toll.

But I’m a big boy and holding it clearly together.  Oh, and you may wonder about dad . . . well, he is a strong trooper, brave and a hero!

 

That’s Not My Problem

The world seems to be falling apart . . . at least it would appear so.  But truly, it doesn’t look any more unrested than it did in the days of Abraham, Noah, David, Paul, and any number of moments within the gap (those days between then and now). It’s easy to focus on the uncertainty of what is to come.  Of course, as Christians, there is a sense of peace knowing the God is the victor, but our minds, our flesh has a tendency to worry about tomorrow.

I was reminded last night, as I spoke on the phone with a dear friend, of the nature and doubt of where what we don’t see, but need, will come from.  How do we know our next meal will arrive?  How do we know our bills will be paid?  Worry, worry, worry.  That seems to be the answer most of the time.

I’ve yet to see a sparrow worry though.  Perhaps the feathers disguise the worrisome look just above their beak, but something tells me they are incapable of such a state of mind.  Wouldn’t that be nice if we were unable to worry?  But God has designed us to trust!  Worry comes when we take our eyes off the Father, Jehovah Jireh (my Provider) and instead, gaze upon the needs of the world around us; especially our own.

I’m so thankful He has me in His provisional hands.  He has me in mind when I don’t understand what tomorrow will bring.  Instead, He wants me to see His provision in my today, not worry about tomorrow, and “lean not on my own understanding, but in all my ways acknowledge Him . . . ”

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.  They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”   Lamentations 3:22-24

Great is your faithfulness; mercy and love!

My Rampart

Have you ever come across a verse that was difficult to shake?  By that I mean, unable to stop pondering, thinking or unpacking?  Indeed, these verses are the hidden jewels of the wealth of treasure throughout God’s Word, and once discovered — they radiate like diamonds on the soul.

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.   Psalm 91:4

For some time now this verse has conjured up all sorts of images . . . wings, protection, safety, shelter and the list goes on.  But it was the latter part of this verse that stirred in my heart for more than a week.  His faithfulness?  Mentioned in the same breath as feathers and wings?  My shield and rampart . . . what in the world is rampart?  My only reference to this word in my everyday life was from my childhood, watching one of my favorite shows in the early 80’s called Emergency One!  It was a syndicated TV series focused on the world of two paramedics at Station 51 and their close working relationship with Rampart General Hospital. The paramedics would arrive on an emergency scene, care for the wounded and call into “Rampart” to alert them of injuries in need of immediate care.  And like the heroes they were, they whisked the injured to the hospital.  Upon arrival, “Rampart” became the place for healing, recovery, care — where peace conquered chaos, and disasters became stories of miracles.

A place of fortification — rampart serves as a place, a broad place, raised to an elevation to serve as a defense.  Now it’s starting to become more than feathers!  My God serves as a broad, expansive defense for me.  And not just Him, but through His faithfulness this shield and rampart protects.  Can anyone else see the radiant diamonds glistening in this discovery?

My God, my Rampart!

Resting In The Shadow

There are so many places where peace is nothing shy of just plain pretty.  Oh the beauty of a peaceful commute home from work or the beauty of  a calm conversation with the phone company over a discrepancy in the bill.  How awesome to experience the peace in the playroom when 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 and 1 child with a friend plays without fighting.  Sometimes I just cry out for a Klondike Bar!  Oh boy, what I wouldn’t do sometimes for a peaceful moment.

But God has extended for me a place, a place to rest — find peace.  It’s a place not riddled with distractions, formal rules, assignments or expectations — it’s a place of freedom, communion, fellowship and well . . . rest.

David spoke of this place as he, too, wondered of the assurance of fellowship with his God.  And as he did he found peace in his fellowship.  It was a place of rest, embrace and joy.

I’m reminded of moments I’ve spent in the hammock, under the tall oak tree.  I reflect on the fellowship with my Savior on the boulder found  firmly in place at the edge of the creek.  As I seek shade on a hot day, may I rest in the comfort of my Lord.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High, will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  Psalm 91:1

Talking Behind My Back

Have you ever been the subject of someone talking about you behind your back?  Worse, have you ever been the one talking about someone else behind their back?  I hardly think anyone is exempt from either of those questions.  In fact, the topics about another span the universe and unfortunately we only find out about the negative things.  Truth is, nobody really likes to find out they’ve been “talked about” behind their back.

I recently encountered a moment very similar.  But my reaction was very different than most I think.  I found out someone was talking about me behind my back and it literally took my breath away.  I never ever thought this person would say such things about me so when I found out I could do nothing but sit there in tears.  Why was I taken so off-guard, you may wonder?  Well, it wasn’t the first time.  This particular revelation was actually the sixth time it was brought to my attention.  It was getting a bit ridiculous . . . or was it?

What do you really say when you find out God is talking to others about you behind your back?  What do you really say?  I sat in awe and wept.

When, for the sixth time, some random person comes up to you and says, “God just told me to come over and introduce myself because you needed someone to pray with,” you open your ears to their words.  The prayers, the conversations, the revelation of God in those moments and the realization that God Himself was having a conversation with others about you will change your perspective!

Then I read about the blind guy, Bartimaeus.  It was brief, but it was direct . . . Jesus spoke to others about Bartimaeus in much the same way as he has spoken to others about me.  Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”  Jesus said this to those with him (likely his disciples).  And with that charge, they called Bartimaeus from the roadside where he sat yelling for mercy — something Jesus could have surely done Himself.  Bartimaeus was on the mind of Jesus and Jesus spoke to others to get his attention. (Mark 10:46-52)

I’m wondering now how many times I’ve missed the call from Jesus as He is trying to talk to me about someone behind their back.

Lord Jesus, I simply am awestruck at your thoughts of me.  When your thoughts of me reach me, they overwhelm me.  Thank you for calling out to your disciples for Bartimaeus.  I’m so thankful for their obedience in hearing your voice. Thank you for calling out to others for me!  And, for what it is worth, I’m glad you talk about me behind my back!

by Mark Cruver

Forfeit The Grace

Do I really believe the Word of God to be “a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path?”  Yes I do!  God’s word to me has been increasingly more meaningful and His voice, through His word, has been steady, firm and clear.  His promises and assurances fill me with more God-confidence and far less self-confidence.  More of Him, less of me.

Jonah’s life has always been an interesting read.  There’s nothing like the consequence of disobedience resulting in an unexpected journey in the belly of a whale.  It’s evident through his journey that God is serious.  And it is in this seriousness God reached out and demanded Jonah’s attention.  I know the feeling!

What is better is Jonah listened and pondered God’s direction.  He was in quite an awkward position of surrender and so he did.  And as he did, his heart too began to hear the steady, firm and clear voice of His savior.  As he listened, he learned of the greatest consequence of all.  To God, Jonah’s worship was silent.  It echoed throughout his life, but little belonged to His Lord — in fact, one might question what or who Jonah truly worshipped.  And without Jonah’s complete surrender in worship to His Lord God, the grace that could be, would be forfeited.

Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs.  But I, with a  song of thanksgiving will sacrifice to you.  What I have vowed I will make good.  Salvation comes from the Lord.  Jonah 2:8-9

Lord Jesus, I know your grace is sufficient . . . for even me!  You have reminded me to trust in you even when the waters get deep and rough (Isaiah 43:1-2).  You have assured me that you hear my thoughts and words (Micah 7:7).  You have encouraged me to not allow my heart to be troubled or to be afraid — because you have given me Peace (John 14:27).  May I sing the same song as Jonah!

Calm, Chaos and Christ

In a conversation with one of my sons this past week it was brought to my attention how busy things have gotten for me.  He said it with the best of intentions, but it certainly made me think a bit.  In reflection, I could see his point.  Life was getting busy, bouncing from one fire to the next and with little time to rekindle.  My loaded days certainly looked different than a year ago, but at what expense?  Stressed by the daily entourage of deadlines, projects and well, worry and wonder, that “double-W” will get me every time.

And then I was reminded of a few men with which I could certainly relate.  The account of Jesus in the boat with His disciples on a stormy night brought instant peace.

Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him.  Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat.  But Jesus was sleeping.  The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!”

He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?”  Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.

The men were amazed and asked, “What kind of man is this?  Even the winds and the waves obey him!”   Matthew 8:23-27

Years ago I recall standing on a small bridge on the island of Eleuthera in the Bahamas.  On this particular bridge one can look to the left and see the raging, deep blue almost black waters of the Atlantic Ocean and to the right you can see the calm turquoise blue green, crystal clear waters of the Caribbean.  Below your feet, under the bridge the two met, yet kept their distance.

When I read this story of the disciples in the boat with Jesus, I’m reminded of the fierce waters of the Atlantic that day and I must admit if this sort of torment “came” upon my boat, it would invoke a slight bit of fear.  But without warning, chaos appears in our lives much like the waves of the sea and it is plenty enough to sweep us off our feet.

I’m further struck by the fact that the disciples cried out to Jesus because He was sleeping during the chaos.  How many times have I thought Jesus was sleeping in my own chaos?  Shaking my fist or expressing a sarcastic “Thanks!” seemed to be the most appropriate response.  But Jesus’ response to our chaos is most profound!

Jesus takes our chaos and through our trust in Him brings peace.  In the midst of life’s most chaotic moments when Jesus seems to be no where around and silent to the mighty waves He says, “You of little faith!”

May I continue to see the peace in the presence of Jesus, throughout my chaos whose presence alone demands the raging seas of life to become calm and clear.

Clean Undies

But our citizenship is in heaven.  And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.  Philippians 3:20-21

Julie:  Are you wearing clean underwear?

Mark:  What?  Really?

Julie:  Are you?

Mark:  Just trying to pull my life together.

Julie:  I know.  Some days my only source of sanity comes in knowing that I have clean undies on.  I guess it’s the only thing I can control.  Everything else I shove off to Jesus.  I might appear looney tunes because I literally talk to him out loud as if he is there.  And not in  “mushy prayerful” conversation.  More like, “I can’t deal with this crap so you’re just gonna have to take it and figure it out yourself.  Let me know when I should pay attention to it because I’m done.”

Mark:  That’s where I am.

Julie:  Clean undies?

Mark:  They are clean . . . for now!

Julie:  Okay then!

This is an actual conversation I had recently with a dear friend and thankfully, not forgotten.  It was an incredible reminder of my need to let go and let God.  It is terribly easy for me to sulk, think, craft, construct, excuse and attempt to control my circumstances and ultimately, my life.

Julie’s point was well taken. Clean undies are my job, God certainly has a sense of humor.  He left that decision to me!  Luckily I have the smarts enough to make it so.  But little have I ever realized the implication of assuming control of my life.  God wants nothing more than to “work all things together for His good.”

Control is a crazy thing — something we want desperately.  Because when we have it we feel safe, secure, ordered, in charge, peaceful, organized, mindful — but these are all false senses.  It is only through Christ, who is all, gives all and controls all.  It requires a true surrender and demands a level of trust that comes only through the grace and love found on the cross.  It begins in the mind, captures the heart and together, through Christ, brings everything under His control.

We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.  II Corinthians 10:5

Getting Used To It

“But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written:  ‘Be holy, because I am holy.”  I Peter 1:15-16

One of the biggest things I’ve learned over the last couple of years more than anything is that with grief, with loss — comes change.  And in the face of such change there is the temptation to force myself through the briar patch despite the snags and pain with all of its’ lasting wounds and scars.  At times, it feels like it would be more comfortable if I simply stopped and settled in place.  However, the problem with sitting in the briar patch are those pesky thorns starring me in the face and their scratch at every move I make.  Those painful briars tell me it’s safer and hurts less if I just sit still.  And when I do, everyone hears me say things like — “I’m over here . . . do you mind if I just talk from here?  It hurts too much to come to you!”  “That’s ok, it’s just where I am . . . just getting used to it, I hope you don’t mind.”  “I’m doing well, no I’m great, really.  I’m just going to . . . ouch! That hurt!”

But, God didn’t call me to live my life in the briar patch.  Briar patches are places to hide and sulk.  God called me to live life in the abundance of Him without exception.  He calls me to live in His holiness and run into His arms instead places that lie about their safety and comfort.  The hurtful den of that patch is a place where the healing bed of His salvation can also be found.  The mere idea of stepping out of the briars without hurt, without pain . . . with healing and the assurance of His abundant love is the essence of joy, comfort, peace and hope.

There is no peace in the heart of those in the patch, but there is healing in the heart of the one who takes refuge in Him. He has called me to be holy as He is holy — to live in the truth of who I am, regardless of my circumstances.  That is joy unspeakable.

When change comes because of grief and loss, remember there is no getting used to that!   God called me to rest in the knowledge of who I am in Christ, not in getting used to the briar patch — that’s not who I am!

“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.  II Corinthians 10:5

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