How Big is Your God?

We often hear Christians talk about the comfort they receive from their faith, especially in times of trouble. And there have certainly been times when I've cried to the Lord for nothing but comfort--for myself and for those I love. Sometimes it's obvious that there is nothing that can be done in a situation to make things better. But more than once I've been amazed at the comfort God has been able to give in times of sheer desperation and distress. And when you're in the middle of something tragic, the comfort of God is like a cool breath of fresh air on a hot day. It's like gentle, steady rain on parched soil. Sometimes when we see someone in despair finally able to fall asleep, as family and friends we breathe a silent prayer of thanksgiving, because we know in sleep the pain is just a little less. How big is your God? Is he big enough to send comfort when a loved one has been lost? Is he big enough to make you feel a little relief when your heart has been broken in two?

"Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God." Psalm 90:2 (NIV)

I'm tremendously glad we have a God who sends comfort in times of trouble; however, I find that when I'm in the deepest despair, it is the knowledge of God's power and supremacy that brings me the most comfort, not necessarily his tenderness. It is his "bigness" that gives me certainty in times of question and doubt. Nothing comforts me more than knowing that the God who holds the universe in his hands also holds me, and that I am infinitely more important to him than anything that can be named. Are you able to find comfort in God's greatness today? Is your God big enough to overcome the minor or major obstacles that you will face on your walk this week? How big is your God?

The Morning with God

In late July my family was at our church's Family Camp. Since I took a vacation earlier in the summer, I commuted back to town a couple of times during the week to do some work. Thankfully it is only a little over an hour away! I'd rather not have had to get up quite so early to make it back to town on time, but I have to say that the blessings I received on my morning commute were an unexpected delight.

There is something about the morning with God, especially when driving through the back country of Tennessee. When the light filters quietly through the dense foliage surrounding the gently twisting road, you feel God is there. When you see baby deer and bunnies moving silently through the still morning forest, your mind can't help but move to the creator of life. When the morning dew sits on the quiet fields, and the gentle fog is still lifting off the meadows and valleys, you can't help but feel the presence of God slowly moving through your heart and mind. No wonder the Bible speaks so frequently about the morning with God.

"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul." Psalm 143:8 (NIV)

I wonder how different each day would be, if we prayed this prayer every morning, asking God to show us the path we should travel down for the day, dedicating our lives to Him anew with each morning sunrise, allowing the stillness of a brand new day to flood our soul with peace and faith in the God who placed the sun in the sky.

Compassion

A few weeks ago we were studying a lesson on compassion at church. I had been thinking a lot about compassion since then. Some lessons only become real when we experience them in a personal way, though.

It was the last day of summer it was a beautiful day. The temperature was a rare 75 degrees in August in Tennessee. The sky was blue, and our dog, Sammy, just had to dig his way out of our yard to go explore the world. He broke through the backyard fence, and since there was no one at home we didn’t even realize he was gone until my husband came home for lunch that day. He looked for him in our neighborhood, but to no avail.

The call came at about 4 pm. A kind woman found Sammy on the road near our home and called to let me know he was gone. My heart was broken, of course. How would I tell my children? In the midst of my despair, though, a thought came to me that I just couldn’t seem to move past: This woman was a living, breathing example of compassion.

“This is the message you heard from the beginning: We should love one another. This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. “ (I John 3:11, 16, 17 NIV)

This woman saw a need and took pity on me. She didn’t just walk past and say, “Someone really should do something about that.” She stopped what she was doing, took the collar off of a dead dog, and made a difficult phone call to a stranger. Then she pulled our beloved Sammy out of the road to the lawn and laid the collar next to him. This woman didn’t love with words or her tongue. She loved with actions and in truth. And the reality that kept coming back to me was, “I would never have done that.” Compassion became real for me that day. And I will never forget the lesson.

God in the Whisper

I’ve never been a very heavy sleeper, but when I had children any sleep I might have been getting disappeared. I like to say that once you become a mommy you never really sleep again. I think something clicks inside of you that allows you to get the rest you need (most of the time) while still having one ear open to hear anything from a cough in the night to the pitter patter of little feet coming down the stairs.

I’m sure it’s not that way for everyone. My husband, for example, sleeps perfectly well through everything from my daughter coming into our room in the night complaining about a nightmare to a hurricane-strength gale. For me, though, there is a little piece of me that is always aware of the sound in the night—the still whispers.

“The Lord said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.’ 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 gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’” (1 Kings 19:11-13 NIV)

I’ve always found this story to be so interesting. In the midst of a really “down” moment for Elijah, God decides Elijah could use a little moral support. And what better support could there be, really, than a visit from God? God brought Elijah His presence, but first to show where He was NOT. He was not in the wind; he was not in the earthquake; he was not in the fire. Imagine how much of a contrast the gentle whisper, sometimes referred to as a “still small voice,” must have been in comparison to the previous manifestations.

God knew exactly what Elijah needed—a personal encounter with God. There was nothing at this time that was fundamentally wrong with Elijah’s theology, but there was something lacking in his experience. We all tend to look for God in dramatic expressions. Sometimes, though, we can only encounter God properly in less dramatic surroundings.

Chasing the Dream

We have a dog named Sammy. Sammy is 15 months old. Each morning when I wake up, the first thing I do is go look to see if Sammy is still there. You see, Sammy likes to dig. And when Sammy digs, he gets out from the yard and goes wandering in the neighborhood, looking for others to play with. Since Sammy is about 100 lbs, it isn’t difficult for Sammy to break out. Our yard looks like a war zone, with the fence patched and seamed up in various places around the perimeter. Still Sammy seeks to explore. So every morning when I rise and find him there on the porch, wiggling his tail at me happily, my silent prayer is, “Thank you Lord—he’s still here!”

Now on the occasion that Sammy does get out and I have to go looking for him, he usually isn’t far. All I have to do is find the nearest group of people, and he’ll be there. Sammy is a people dog. He loves making friends. And when Sammy sees me coming up to him, it never fails, he comes running to me, his tail wagging wildly, as if to say, “Cool! You’re here. Now you can play too!” And I open the car door and Sammy jumps right in.

What is it that makes Sammy desire to leave the comfort of his yard? Partly, I’m sure it’s hormonal—although we were certain last month’s trip to Dr. Mobley would have fixed that. But there is something about the prospect of the new day, a brand new world of adventure after a good night’s sleep, that brings on the wanderlust for Sammy. He’s got it all in our back yard. He’s got toys, food, water, bones secretly hidden, a big picture window to see into the house. But that’s not enough for Sammy. He has desires. He has dreams. And dreams deserved to be chased! So off he goes.

1 Kings 19 tells an awesome story about someone who was way off track, Elijah. He was being chased by a wicked queen who was trying to kill him, and though he was trying to serve the Lord, things just weren’t working out quite right. He was off course by about 200 miles. Discouraged and down on himself, the Bible tells us he sat under a tree and prayed that he might die. Instead the angel of the Lord came and fed him. He ate, and he was strengthened; however, he was still discouraged. So he fell asleep again. The angel came a second time and woke him up, telling him to eat and get up. This time, strengthened by the food, he got up and traveled another 40 miles to a cave in the middle of Mount Horab. It was here he had decided to spend the night, when the Lord called on him. Beginning in verse 9, the scripture says:

'And the word of the Lord came to him: "What are you doing here, Elijah?"
He replied, "I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too." The Lord said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by." 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 gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?"
He replied, "I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too." The Lord said to him, "Go back the way you came, and go to the Desert of Damascus. . . I reserve seven thousand in Israel—all whose knees have not bowed down to Baal and all whose mouths have not kissed him."' (I Kings 19:9-18 NIV)

Have you ever felt the Lord asking you, “What are you doing here?” Have you ever spewed out some long story about how nothing had been going your way and you were just doing what you thought gave you your best chance of survival? Some days that’s what life seems to boil down to: mere survival. That’s where Elijah was.

So whether you’re chasing some dream of adventure and excitement, like Sammy; or merely seeking not to get killed as you wander through the battlefield of your day, like Elijah; you may find yourself a bit off track some times. The fact is, we all do. The Lord will always come looking for you when you wander astray, just as I always do for Sammy. Just make sure you’re not too proud to jump in that car and go home!

PS: The next entry will discuss why the Lord was in the whisper, and not the earthquake or fire.

Waking Up Alone

One of the great things about our church's family camp is that all the parents watch out for each other's kids. That knowledge provides a great deal of flexibility for the kids and comfort for the parents. One day this week a group of parents were sitting on the cabin porch talking and playing games. One of the mom's from the cabin across the path from ours came over and asked if we'd keep our ears and eyes open for her daughter, Katy, to wake up. Katy was napping, her mother was scheduled to go to a ceramics class during the upcoming period, and her dad was working as the camp nurse. So we told her we would of course watch out for Katy. About an hour later, Katy woke up and wandered out onto her porch. We heard her crying across the way, so we called out to her and went over to get her. As we were taking Katy down to where her mother was, we saw her mother on the horizon walking up the hill. When she saw her mother, Katy's demeanor quickly changed.

Seeing Katy on the porch crying because she woke up alone made me think about how many times in our lives we do that too. There are days when we wake up and feel very alone. Sometimes we even feel alone when we're with others. Being alone can be discouraging, even frightening. The Israelites felt that way more than once in their experience, but Moses had been through it all. He had seen God's deliverance enough times to trust that God would never turn his back on His faithful. So when it was time for Joshua to take over, the 120-year-old Moses gave him these words of encouragement, words born from many years of experience walking with God:

"The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." Deuteronomy 31:8 (NIV)

Next time you wake up feeling very alone, remember Moses' words to Joshua. They apply today too. The God of the Israelites is no less faithful to us.

Things I Learned from my Kids--Entry 42

Tell people they "look pretty" more often.

My kids tell me this all the time, and it always causes me to stop and smile. It really brightens my day. I was thinking about this, and it seemed wasteful to me to see something pretty and not mention it to someone. It seems such a simple thing one can do to make an enormous difference in someone's day, so I've been trying to do this. The other day I saw a girl sitting in the hall outside of my classroom who had these great tan pumps on, so I said, "Those are beautiful shoes." Last week I passed someone on the stairs who had on this awesome fuschia sweater, so I said, "That sweater looks beautiful on you." I have a feeling people cannot hear the word "beautiful" used in reference to themselves too much. I know I can't.

Phillipians 4:8 reminds us, "For the rest, my brothers, whatever things are true, whatever things have hoour, whatever things are pright, whatever things are holy, whatever things are beautiful, whatever things are of value, if there is any virtue and if there is any praise, give thought to these things." (NIV)

Seeing the beauty in the day-to-day stuff doesn't always come easy. We encounter a lot of "ugliness" every day. As with everything else, practice makes perfect here too. If you make it a point to look for beauty and respond to it, you'll have an easier time recongnizing what's beautiful (and what's not) in your own life. And beauty should always cause us to lift our hearts toward Heaven in praise of the Creator of all things.