pamela – Page 7 – The Welcome Home

Trusting God With His Plans

Trusting God with His plans surely sounds like a worthy disposition for a Christian woman, doesn’t it? Maybe even the proper automatic reaction, too. Were I to be asked, Do you trust God with His plans? I’d probably instantly and emphatically say, yes. Yes, I trust God with His plans. And then something hard to deal with happens, it might not look like it. And it is, I’ve come to believe, in that moment we have a decision to make: Do we act on what we say/think we believe or do we act on what we think we see.

[cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]trust God with His plans[/cp_quote]Many years ago, when facing a testing of faith, I distinctly remember the thought that came to mind: You’re going to need this. At the time I thought I was going to need what I was learning in that moment — waiting on God to heal, provide and guide in that trial. But what I needed was *all* the different ways God would show Himself strong on my behalf. What I needed was to see God be God and that truly, His ways are good. Truly His plans are perfect.

It takes a trial — loads of trials — to see this, to really see that we can — must — trust God with His plans. The more trials we have, the more our faith is strengthened if we seek to see God in them. The more trials we face with this in mind, the more we seek to see how He’ll be glorified in the trial, the sooner we’ll react with eager anticipation for His glory and our good.

Sometimes the trial begins in our mind with a Yet. My word in faith last year was, yet. I couldn’t see some things, yet. I felt I just couldn’t do some things, yet. And surely — surely, surely, surely, by the grace of God, those yet’s became But God. But God who is rich in mercy…

It’s not hard to trust someone who’s proven trustworthy. But we often act like we can’t trust God with His plans — like we know better or something silly like that. But when we’ve been in places where the trial is thick and hard, we cry out… we learn to know He’s all we’ve got. And then we get that marvelous revelation that He truly is all we need. The trial’s there – it’s hard, it’s painful, it’s humbling, it’s long…. but in it, that still small voice of the Lord gives that blessed assurance that He is in it. For us. For our good. For His glory.

This journal entry today is prompted by a powerful article I read this morning coupled with thoughts swirling around my mind as I worked in my kitchen. We’d finished Bible study and prayer… reading in Matthew and the parables Jesus was telling regarding the kingdom of heaven. Then praying for eyes to see beyond what I see.

Then the article… The Heartache You Didn’t Ask For ; and as I read it, I thought back on some of the many heartaches I didn’t “ask” for. But I needed every one of them. Seriously. I needed what each one of them taught me — what each one of them taught me about myself — what each one of them, most importantly, taught me about God. You know, we don’t get to choose the tools for our sanctification. But bcz of His plans, I can trust His plans. His plans have shown me He is my Shepherd. His plans have shown me He is my good and gracious Father. His plans have shown me All His ways are good.
Seriously. Even if/when at the time they don’t/didn’t initially feel/seem like it. To me.

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Yet you may live a great life

“You may be very discontented with yourself… no genius, have no brilliant gifts… are inconspicuous… mediocrity is the law of your existence… Your days are remarkable for nothing but sameness and insipidity. Yet you may have a great life.”

Well that started out on a refreshing note, didn’t it? But then I continued to read and came to the author of the section I was reading. Humbled that I thought it was a tough read, and, yes, a convicting one. This, from the Streams in the Desert devotional, a daily reading habit I’ve taken up again. (note: Sift some entries if you take up reading this devotional) The section was quoted material from the writings of George Matheson. And then I continued to read the deeply instructive passage and gleaned a great deal from it – maybe more now that I’m sharing it with you than I understood, initially.

The same George Matheson who wrote perhaps one of the most beautiful hymns ever penned. The same George Matheson who became blind at the age of twenty – a writer, a minister of the gospel… never married, blind. Blind but saw more than I see today.

The passage continued, “Be willing to be only a voice, heard but not seen… Do the commonest and smallest things as beneath His eye…. If you have made a great mistake in your life, do not let it becloud all of it; but, locking the secret in your breast, compel it to yield strength and sweetness. We’re doing more good than we know, sowing seed, starting streamlets, giving men true thoughts of Christ, to which they’ll refer one day…”

All of these things gave birth to the affirmation of the truth that the love of God will not let us go. O, what a Saviour. O, Love that will not let me go!

♥

O Love That Will Not Let Me Go
George Matheson

O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O Light that foll’west all my way,
I yield my flick’ring torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

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blindsided

I was once in an accident that blindsided me. It happened in a startling flash! And though nearly four decades have passed, I haven’t forgotten sitting there in the car, shocked that while making a left turn in a blind hilltop intersection, I’d just been spun around and was facing an entirely different direction on the hill I’d intended to drive down to go home. Soon I would talk with an officer and would receive a citation and have to go to traffic court. It was a mercy that a very lenient judge determined that though the accident was my fault for failing to yield right of way, were I to successfully attend and pass the traffic school course, I could, once again, have a “clean” driving record. Completing the course may have changed the record, but I knew differently. Even though I now had no blot on my record (and no one was injured), I still knew the accident was my fault. I didn’t drive again for a long time.

Incidentally, where we lived in Seattle, I didn’t really need to drive anywhere. Even still, it wasn’t that I couldn’t drive anywhere but that I wouldn’t drive anywhere. That accident blindsided me and caused me to believe I ought never drive again. Fear. It caused me to believe I was a terrible driver. It caused me to question if I ever was a good driver. It caused me to think that were I to ever drive again I’d probably get in another accident, wreck the car, permanently mar my driving record, or worse, hurt someone. Everyone would know–they’d know I was a failure and that I should never have been driving again. Shame. It was disproportionate fear and shame.

Fear and shame are powerful things — they can paralyze us, cause us to do or not do things, and can cause us to doubt ourselves, or other people or things. Guilt only adds to the paralyzing results of blindsiding event. Disappointment is another angle that comes to light, and, incidentally, pride does this, too. Sometimes.

Things that’ve blindsided me in life have revealed one or any number of these things and I’m pretty sure these are what have caused me to seek God’s purposes for them– and much more so with each passing year. I’ve determined to ask, why is this thing making me ashamed or afraid, or is this thing hurting (thus revealing) my pride, or why did this thing bring such instant and great disappointment, or why do I feel so guilty or responsible for this problem, or was thing to add to or to strengthen my faith?

I’m resolved to really quickly assess what’s going on when I experience and react to a blindsiding event. I have to chuckle at this point; this is reading as though a blindsiding event occurs regularly. Even though it feels like it, it’s not true. I’m just learning along the way to seek to repent or correct my actions quickly, to be circumspect, to keep short accounts, to guard my blindsides: to determine to be real careful how I initially react when things seem to come out of nowhere.

I can sincerely attest that initial reactions, statements, or decisions can be dangerous, or damaging to myself, hurtful to others, or to relationships if the reactions are not harnessed and words not carefully chosen — especially when/if they’re of the flesh and not of faith.

I can also affirm that there’s never a second chance to say the right thing first. Lately a guiding principle has been: How would I wish someone would treat me were I to be in this same position? Most importantly, I sincerely know the things that happen in my life are for God’s glory and my good — this is where blind faith is continually established or cultivated. He’s already sifted all the events through His loving hands – and if this is true, and it is, then what’s happened may have blindsided me, but it didn’t blindside God.

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that you may contribute a verse

My husband sent me a link to a site — I clicked the link and read the words: What will your verse be? I read and reread the article — trying to comprehend the depth of the meaning of the words. I read the poem from which the thought was taken. I still mulled over the words. In an instant they’re easy to read and understand. What will your verse be? What will your verse be? What will your verse be? What will your verse be? Hmmmm… you mean today, right now? Does this mean tomorrow? Does this mean in the end? Does this mean in my obit?

Not remembering this poem specifically, but knowing that in my earlier years I’d read it in my American Lit class — still, I needed to go and look it up. Hmmmm, Leaves of Grass – Walt Whitman, O Me! O Life! I’d read him and liked his work. It was sometimes light, sometimes depressing, introspective — at once meaningless and meaningful to me.

Even today I read depressing things from time to time and am assaulted by the resulting oppression. Sometimes I sink into the hopeless emptiness and have to really examine why in the world am I letting myself be entertained by the dead end nature of the writing? Thankfully, faith in Jesus is, or soon becomes for me, a springboard to as quickly refute the worthlessness of the baseless depression as quickly as I fell into it. I have to guard against allowing myself to wander into the abyss of worthlessness or regret or self-deprecation – the rehashing failures or regrets. And, man is easy to trip and fall into it. Maybe it is for you, too.

So that site and intriguing heading: What will your verse be? It’s worth reading the article – well, for me it’s worth reading articles of this sort from time to time that are written from a perspective that might differ from mine. It’s like I see things from a different angle and that angle so sharpens or contrasts my own that it makes me check and/or define what I think — makes me defend the Truth (or at the very least carefully affirm what is True). It’s in articulating the Truth that affirmation is cemented in the heart. Well, that, and daily Bible reading. And prayer.

This is the poem, Oh Me! Oh Life! by Walt Whitman

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

All this has been particularly interesting to me today – a low day, a what in the world am I here for? sort of day. And then I recall my devotional… and the message at church this morning… and helping our daughter here in our home with her newborn baby… and so many other blessings… and God’s great mercy despite my failings… and the grace of God.

And I mull over the last few words of the poem: the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. And I think: what will the verse be that I contribute? In this life — this powerful play, What verse may I contribute? This isn’t (for me) a who am I and what am I here for? sort of moment. Rather, it’s a pondering, it’s a question: In this powerful play, what verse might I contribute? Meaning, I’ve got a part to play – I’ve got a verse to contribute!! I mustn’t go another day just squandering the gifts of the Lord. What verse might I contribute today? What will be summed up in the end?? What will your verse be?

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reclaiming former resolve

Resolve. Quite a number of times recently I’ve longed for reclaiming former resolve. Sort of the embracing of the old paths — things that became such high priorities in former days. So now, I humbly say, experiences in recent years have really knocked me down and drained my resolve. Sinking in worthlessness jolted my senses and made me realize resolve had slipped away. Wait! Where’d it go? Where did the eagerness go?

In the eighties and early nineties I had many young children — the days were full and busy — and while some of my priorities bordered on legalism, most were just sincerely steeped in the fervent desire to live well, and impart to our children, a joyful life of order and faithful obedience. I say it “bordered on legalism” more as a description I heard from others than how I would have characterized it (then or now!).

There were, in those very early days, so many new opportunities and experiences for me as I sought to learn how to be a godly wife and mother. The more I learned, the more I wanted to learn! I hadn’t been raised in a Christian home and didn’t have the disciplines of a woman of the Word and so, those were days of forming habits (as well as unforming others!), and learning Scriptures through sermons, studying my Bible, and in church fellowship. Every now and then I’d meet and spend time with women from whom I’d glean more foundational truths, habits, and practices. It seemed that everything was new! I learned homemaking skills, child training methods, bread making, cross-stitching, gardening, meal planning, bulk shopping and bulk cooking, homeschooling and a whole host of other things through women’s books, Bible studies, retreats and even through magazines that are still dear to my heart. Those early days were filled with such eager resolve. Eager resolve with lots of children and lots of laundry.

A lot of those early resolutions led to the embracing the teachings of the Institute in Basic Life Principles and then a little later, the Advanced Training Institute – it all seemed like so many more good things!! I’ve written quite a bit about IBLP and ATI (there are a number of posts, actually), so I won’t rehash all that here except to say, we were sincerely blessed in many ways early on. And then we weren’t. But one thing I miss and sort of long for is that exuberance we had in those days — those days that became many years. I’m attempting to recapture that eagerness.

So, I’ve begun doing some of those former things — interestingly, it’s as if I’m tapping into some of those early resolves. I’ll tell you a few — maybe my rediscoveries will be helpful to you. I’ve begun reading a morning and evening devotional. I’ve begun writing a line a day in a five year journal. I’m writing down specific answers to prayers. I’m memorizing Scripture again. I’m trying to decorate for small occasions, I’m looking through old photos, cooking a few old favourites — yes, some from those old magazines. Inspired by my old Gentle Spirit magazines. I know. I’m overusing old. I’m working on crafts, lettering, and cards. I’m resolved to be looking for ways to be a blessing here at home and wherever I go. I’m working on writing. And blogging. This resolve doesn’t look like former days so much, but the desire feels very similar.

I didn’t have the hindsight I have now — which, by the way, is a very good thing. I’d have thrown in the towel early on if I’d known then what I know now regarding not a few of my motherhood chapters. I’ll tell ya, lots of things haven’t worked out real well—Yet. But lots of things have worked out so much better than I’d ever have imagined. What I didn’t have then was the faith that all these years walking with Jesus have given me. I didn’t have blessed assurance that Jesus is mine and that He would carry me. I know now. He has. Bcz of what the Lord has done for me I want to finish well.

So now, Mama’s Journal is underway with the resolve of the former days and bright hope for tomorrow.

bold confidence, sheer determination, blind faith

In my earlier years, I seem to have had no lack of bold confidence or sheer determination (and what was becoming blind faith). As I look back now on those earlier days — so many amazing (and so many cringe-worthy 😲) days! I marvel at the goodness and mercy of God!

The other day Hannah asked me if I regret any of the purchases we made in the early days of parenting. This conversation was sparked by a comment I made regarding the proliferation of infant and toddler necessities — all the latest stuff young mothers think they must have these days – in addition to all the other things they need to buy and do and be! I told her, no. No, I don’t regret what we bought for our kids or for my pregnancies, or our home… and I laughed as I told her that most of the time we couldn’t afford to make poor decisions! ~smile~ But I did go on to say that we didn’t have all the things in those days — so many things! — that are pushed as necessary and imperative today. Again laughing, I said, I sure sound like an old person, don’t I?!? I’m so glad now… glad we didn’t have the money to buy things which didn’t exist then. ~smile~ There were enough stresses just “making it” through without the added burden of having to measure up or deal with what I see are today’s must have‘s (must be‘s – must do‘s) for young mothers. We had all the necessities for the babies — may’ve been short on space and money, but sure long on imaginative creativity.

Those were the days of bold confidence and sheer determination. Those were the humble beginnings of blind faith. Those were the days where I began to see that God was in it all. [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]”The years teach much which the days never know” — Ralph Waldo Emerson [/cp_quote] In those days I was beginning to collect the thousands of mercies, experiences, provisions, protections, and miracles from the Lord — the years now teaching much which most of those days never knew. But in bold confidence and sheer determination, God was working to instill blind faith.

I don’t think in those days that I expected God to work — He was working marvelously, but I didn’t know Him enough to know it. Working through my bold confidence and sheer determination, those were the days where the Lord allowed for a very,very short season –about a year’s time– a great amount of money and lavish living. I know we credited Him for that prosperity — but it was, in reality, misplaced or misunderstood credit. What was happening was that God was showing Himself strong on our behalf — not in the sudden wealth so much as what He was going to do with it all. We’d asked Him to bless us. And He did. O, He did. We thought the blessing was in what we could see — the goals and the things we could obtain. That wasn’t the blessing at all. The blessing was in what we couldn’t see/didn’t see — at that time. Part of the blessing was to put us back on the track of humble beginnings. The years have taught so much what those days didn’t know. It was the beginning of blind faith. It was the beginning of very sharply refining that bold confidence and sheer determination. It was the dawn of knowing that God does all things well: All the time.

Journal entries for days… What the Lord gave and what He took away. What happened to that confidence? What does blind faith look like now?

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Two Miraculous Births

[cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]Two births — the birth of a mother, the birth of a child.[/cp_quote]Every time I assist a birth I watch and watch and watch for not one, but two miraculous births — first the birth of a mother, that powerful time of dying to herself with a burst of unparalleled bravery and resolve to give every ounce of energy, hope, and strength to that little life in her pain racked body…and then, of course, the emergence of that little baby — that life that’s been at the center of all the hopes, all the tears, all the anticipation, and of all the pain.

Those two births — the birth of the mother, the birth of the child — were nine months of preparation and anticipation in the making. Nine months of mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual transformations.

For many women, this is a thrilling time — a time of transition from a life that might have been on an entirely opposite path than that of motherhood to a life that anticipates, researches, embraces, and finds new identity in motherhood. For other women, that time of transition is filled with anxiety, fear, doubt, pain, and isolation. And, for still others, this time of preparation is a strange mix of the two—the labour and birth—instantly defining their place in life, instantly birthing in them a love they could not even begin to fathom prior to that triumphal moment of birth. The fears and doubts seem to melt away as they draw their baby to their breast, look with wonder into their eyes and embrace the motherhood that’s just been placed in their arms.

I began writing this journal entry last summer while I was still working as a birth assistant — on call for local home and birth-center births — usually I was assisting perfect strangers — assisting them in their most vulnerable, desperate circumstance, instantly bonding with women of all walks of life.

As I complete this entry today, I’m “on-call” here at home as I await the labour and birth of our daughter’s baby — the birth of another mother ~smile~ and I guess, in a way, I’m awaiting the birth of a grandmother. again.

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change is a good thing

Change is a good thing. You may have noticed that I’ve made a change to my site title… the url remains the same, but the title is now: mama’s journal. I’ve done this for a couple of reasons, one being, streamlining a couple of blogs and the other, a first step in changing the url to this page. I recently noticed that there’s a “welcome home blog” page for home-coming soldiers and so, to leave that honour for them, I have decided to merge a couple of my sites into this location and eventually discontinue the use of thewelcomehome.

Additionally, I’m wanting to begin “blogging” again and not without a bit of fear and trepidation, I might add, I sincerely want to just write what’s on my heart… slices of life, and personal commentary, but my fear is that what I often want to share might be misconstrued, misread as an attack on those who see slices of life perhaps a bit (or a LOT) differently than I do. That fear is a powerful silencer. Then, there’s a myriad of fears that my failures, my kid’s failures, my shortcomings do or will disqualify me. So, I can only fall back on Scripture and say, not that I have attained… but I press on. (Pips 3.12, 14)

As many of you know, I love to write — I write things every day — and so I’d like to, once again, share pages of my life story in hopes that my observations, gleanings, experiences — yes, and failures — might be of some help, some hope, and some encouragement to you.

[cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]Change is a good thing[/cp_quote]And as always… to God be the glory; great things He is doing. I say this in faith as there are so many days it might not look like He’s doing great things. But He is. He truly is.

This is my story. These are now pages of this mama’s journal.

Faith. Falling into the Hand of the Lord

In First Peter, regarding faith, we read: Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, To an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you, Who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations: That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ: Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory: Receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls. Of which salvation the prophets have enquired and searched diligently, who prophesied of the grace that should come unto you.” 1Peter 1.3-10

Every day we have opportunity to witness God’s work, His Word, His “doings” in our lives. Opportunity, I say, because we can either acknowledge (and accept) or ignore (and disregard) His will, His work, His ways with us. Opportunity abounds. Distractions, false teachings (!!), self-will, sin, or ignorance keep us from seeing these opportunities, from yielding to the Truth — keep us from hearing His voice. They also keep us from seeking the Truth. And that’s probably one of the devil’s most superlative weapons: to distract from or to distort the Truth.

So distracted are we, that we look around for a better way, an easier way, a less painful way to live. Falling into the Hand of the Lord seems hard sometimes, seems scary sometimes, seems foolish sometimes, seems ignorant sometimes, seems careless sometimes. Strangely, falling into the hand of the Lord is at once all of these and none of these. Falling into the Hand of the Lord is an act of faith… it’s an act of obedience, it’s an act of trust, it’s an act of hope, and it’s an act of love. Falling into the Hand of the Lord is the safest, surest place to be.

hebrews111pamelaspurling

When a lot of things around you (okay, maybe everything around you) seems like a mess, an absolute mess, what’s not true is that God’s forgotten you. What’s not true is that He stopped caring about what’s happening to you. What’s not true is that God has forsaken you and doesn’t have good plans for you. But the devil doesn’t want you to know that. He wants you to believe that your mess, your life, your stuff’s just beyond hope… that your mess is beyond redemption. That’s a lie.

Faith… (Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith) is the assurance of things hoped for.
Faith… (Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith) is the evidence of things unseen.

Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith;
who for the joy that was set before him
[atonement and redemption]
endured the cross,
despising the shame, and is set down
at the right hand of the throne of God.
Hebrews 12.2

the subtle shift

January 6, 2006

2timothy434 It’s so subtle and is happening so slowly and smoothly that it’s hardly noticeable to some people—the faint shift from day to day to the acceptance of immorality. Think for a moment about the church growth “movement” of the last decade or two. Consider the shift from Christ centered to man centered theology and from Biblical principles to marketing strategies for growth. Then take into account the music that fills the minds and the airwaves… no longer Christcentric but egocentric. Consider the shift from Bible study to “focus-groups” that address “felt needs” or personal interests or individual crisis. And then mull over the ramifications of the “AIDS crisis” over the last twenty-five years. Very gradually we’ve been “indoctrinated” to accept people where they’re at—to not condemn or judge behaviour and certainly not attribute to sin the consequences of certain behaviours. So that’s been engrained steadily over time by advertisers and the massive machine of Hollywood—the pseudo social and political experts, the change agents and shapers of cultural norms–the destroyers of family and morality. Hollywood’s been very cleverly working to redirect the thinking… the subtle washing, the crafty work of emotionally moving videos. I reflect on two movies I’ve seen this year… the characters which command acceptance. The lifestyles that demand tolerance—so cunning is the inclusion of two women as parents of a boy in Kicking and Screaming… Two men as a couple in The Family Stone… and in another movie which we did not/will not see was the assaulting of the sensibilities by a pair of cowboys. Over the years, homosexuality has been slowly creeping into movies and television so that it’s like the proverbial frog in the pot… slowly, as the heat is increased, the frog boils to death—never jumping out of the pot because of the slow acclamation to the heat.

So all this has happened and the church nods off. All this is happening and the church is busy building bigger barns and catering to felt needs. Reading paraphrases of paraphrases of the Bible. Singing inane songs with sensual tones and repetitive lines of few words. And then, taking into consideration the enormity of church “attendance” and the extraordinary availability of Biblical information, helps, guides, studies, buildings, buildings, buildings, seminaries, and Bible schools, it is deplorable that there’s isn’t notable Christian influence and appearance in this nation. There really ought to be a difference… there ought to be distinctively different look and action of Christian individuals… individuals who are not their own—individuals who’ve been bought with a price, redeemed from the curse of the Law.

I’ve been thinking of some different letters I’ve received concerning movies, the sales of clothing with clearly anti-Christian symbols, the legislature and other topics where there is clearly an open antagonistic and sometimes hostile view of Christians—not so much of religion per se, not anti-God, but anti-Christ. It’s actually kind of chic to be religious–not Jesus-religious, but yoga religious, christian-science religious, new-age religious, mystic religious, and the whole gamut of sorcery sort of religious—anything but Jesus. It’s very common for people to accept talk of God—but totally bristle at the mention of the Lord Jesus—which is totally bizarre —considering the awesomeness of the LORD God—not the pseudo-god who is known as the “higher power” in the world of Emmet Fox, Norman-Vincent Peale or Robert Schuller or all the people currently influenced by them—but God, the God of the Bible, the God of the Universe, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob—the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Isn’t it amazingly ironic—the God is so cavalierly held in mind, esteemed so common as to be used as a household expletive. So, God is acceptable—sort of the universally accepted -word- but not the God of the Bible.

“If the world hate you, ye know that it hated me before it hated you. If ye were of the world, the world would love his own: but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you. Remember the word that I said unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you; if they have kept my saying, they will keep yours also. But all these things will they do unto you for my name’s sake, because they know not him that sent me.” John 15.18-21

Our lives ought to be–-must be—different because of the terrific price paid on our behalf: Titus 2.14 “Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.” But, sadly, our lives are often not all that much different at all. Our behaviour, words and appearance really ought to outwardly reflect the inward change of our lives. I was thinking back on a situation recently where we were attending a program and I distinctly recall watching the men watching the women in attendance. The “holiday” attire was alluring and the line of distinction between modest and immodest was blurred. But what saddened me the most was the tightly packed row of teenagers immediately in front of us. Throughout the evening there seemed to be a constant preoccupation with the pants and the tops–so involved in making sure the tops were meeting but not covering the top of the pants, the victoria’secret tag in view, and then when sitting down, it was painfully obvious that the pants were too low. I was embarrassed for the young ladies; I found myself feeling sorry for them as they were more concerned with their view of their appearance than with the statement their appearance was really making. I felt sorry for the obvious distraction they were to the young men who kept glancing and then looking away. I felt sorry for the lack of understanding of modesty—not just in appearance, but in behaviour. I was sorry for the parents who were not in proximity to the young people and weren’t watching the situation. And seemingly hadn’t been part of the purchasing process, either.

So, when I think of all the anti-Christian rhetoric and the slurs and insulting music, movies and merchandise, I guess I consider the Word and what the LORD has said would happen, I consider the state of the church today–its message, in many places, so anemic. I pray… come, Lord Jesus—for He is the only One who can save— Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.