I am the Thief on the Cross: Every Day is Sunday

I am one of the fortunate ones. I grew up with no doubt that a higher, greater being existed. My first experiences with God came through people who loved Him.

The experiences were not paragraphs or even sentences in my life; they were more like dashes or commas.  

My dad and mom, who taught me He is Holy and to be respected.

Bible school teachers who taught me He is kind and good.

Sunday school teachers who did not know when I would be there, yet they were prepared for me when I walked through the door.

A man and his wife who opened their home and taught me He is the miracle worker.

And a preacher who was unafraid to speak in such a way as to show me my sins…in living color.

I remember listening.

For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…became personal.  

My heart broke open and my sin poured out.

Oh, the shame of it…seeing my own sin.

Hanging my guilt-heavy head, not wishing to look up…

If we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us of our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness…  

“I’m sorry!” I cried.

His redeeming love began to find its way into my heart and for an instant the shame was too great.

It was then that this Love mingled with my wrongdoing. Piece by piece, my broken heart’s endless supply of sin dissipated. What was hopeless just a moment earlier became whole.

That would be me.

Brand new.

Changed.

Transformed.

Forgiven.

Nearly 40 years later, experiencing God is still thrilling!

Having reflected on what He gave that Friday…

Having celebrated resurrection Sunday along with millions of people all over the world…

Having embraced what I cannot fully understand…

Yes, I am as the thief on the cross.

Repentant.

Forgiven.

Every day is Sunday.

When There are no Words...KNOWING

There is a kind of parental love that comes along with being a pastor’s wife. It’s difficult to explain the relationship between my church family and me. I love each one in a motherly way, regardless of age.

Most of the time, ministering to and with my family is a joy. I have such a wonderful “seat” at the table.

But then there are seasons like the present. When there is heartache and heartbreak. “Why’s” echo through tear-filled eyes.  Hollow eyes betray the strong exterior as fear creeps in. And in my motherly sort of way, I want to fix it. I want to have the perfect words that make it all better no different from the moment this morning when my sweet grandbaby bumped her head and began to cry.

 “Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?”

She walked over and leaned in. I kissed her head and hugged her. “I’m so sorry you got hurt, baby.”

She quit crying and went back to playing.

The kiss made it all better.

The trials of this day are far greater.

As my heart breaks for the people I dearly love, I resist to slip into

 “If you really loved us Lord, this would not be happening”

“We serve you Lord, where is the protection that should come our way?”

“You are the Divine Healer…what happened? Did you look the other way?”

And in my search to fix it I am reminded, pain or trial in life is never experienced without purpose for those who love God. 

Among His many promises to His kids, God gives us the only answer to “why?”

Consider it a great joy, my brothers, whenever you experience various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. But endurance must do its complete work, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing. James 1

Don’t get tripped up over the first few words of this verse, those words that tell us to consider it great joy when we experience these hardships. Don’t overlook the next word…KNOWING…

What a gift God gave us in this word. It doesn’t say guessing or hoping.

KNOWING.

KNOWING what is happening in life produces endurance because as faith is pushed to its limits we see God keeps His promises.  Even better we can KNOW that it is not endurance just for the sake of enduring. God is right there, active as the endurance becomes complete so we may…look at it… look at the last two words be LACKING NOTHING.

I’m no stranger to the personal pain that has caused me to weep, face to the floor, and beg for God’s intervention.  I have looked toward heaven and wanted Him to step in and stop the pain now. I confessed that I did not ask for endurance nor did I choose this path toward being complete, lacking nothing.

God, in His great wisdom, loved me deeply as my pain seemed to envelope me. His presence has never been more real than in the alone that is found in the dark of night. When tears flow freely and there is no need for the face of “I’m okay.”

God has allowed my honesty in weakness.  And He is near and is listening as my family members ache and ask “why?”

Psalm 56…You Yourself have recorded my wanderings. Put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your records?  Then my enemies will retreat on the day when I call. This I KNOW: God is for me. In God, whose word I praise, in the Lord, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not fear. What can man do to me?

The enemies of death, cancer, fear, loneliness, addiction, betrayal…add the enemy you are facing to this list.

I wish I could gather you...Marcie, Chad, Sherry… in my arms and, with motherly love, kiss your forehead and make it all better.

You can trust that I, and many others in the family, are praying and believing and KNOWING…

God is for you.

You are in the middle of “complete.”

I need thee every hour…Most gracious Lord…No tender voice like thine…Can peace afford…I need thee…oh I need thee…Every hour I need thee…Oh bless me now my savior…I come to thee

Jehovah Rapha...All to the glory of GOD

Jake sat quietly in the ICU family waiting room. He was surrounded by people he loved and they were all crying. His brother sat in a chair staring at the floor. His older sister wept. His little sister didn't stop moving. I don't think she understands what is happening here.

His grandmother sat quietly holding hands with her parents, Jakes great grandmother and great grandfather. Grandmother's lips were moving but she wasn't making any sound. He watched as a tear silently rolled down her cheek.  

Jake's grandfather was in the ICU and the doctors said he could die.

Jake wasn't ready to say good-bye. He wanted to pray but he wasn't sure what he should say.

"God knows what is best and we have to trust him," said his grandmother.

"All to the glory of God," said Jakes great grandfather.

All to the glory of God? How can any of this be to God's glory?

The doctor walked in and said, "He is stable for the moment. We are arranging to move him to a hospital that is better equipped to help him. You must understand he is very sick and might not survive the transport, but we have done all we can for him here."

The family prayed for a miracle.

Jake looked around the small room. Wall to wall family. Great grandparents who still loved each other. Aunts and uncles who stopped what they were doing and hurried to the hospital to be near their dad. Cousins ranging in age from teenagers down to toddling babies. And everyone was here because of granddad.

The chaplain came by, "The EMT's are here and everything is ready to transport Mr. Lewis."

Jake stared out the window as grandma drove to the hospital. It was late and the night sky was made darker by the fog and light rain that fell.

God, please don't let my granddad die. Please give us more time with him.

The next few days were a blur to Jake. Granddad was always on his mind. It was hard to concentrate at school. He went to the hospital after school each day. Each night he laid awake staring at the ceiling.

Sometimes he prayed.

Sometimes he cried.

His stomach hurt and his head ached.

He was afraid all the time. 

One morning Jake went into the kitchen for breakfast and found his great grandparents sitting at the table.

"Is everything ok? Where's grandma?"

"She's at the hospital. The doctors are running a few tests." said Great Granddad.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Great Granddad put down his coffee cup. "You know you can."

"The other day, at the hospital, you said 'All to the glory of God.' I just don't get it. How can this be for God's glory? If granddad never comes home , if he dies, that can't bring God glory."

"God's ways are not our ways. Often times it's hard to understand God. But you know Jake, God never said we are to understand Him. He said to trust Him. When you trust Him to take care of you no matter what, He will get the glory. God knows best."

"Right now I'm just confused. The family has prayed that God would make granddad better. He's not better. It doesn't look to me like God is listening."

"I know it's hard Jake. The Bible tells us that God is Jehovah Rapha, the Lord Who Heals. God heals all kinds of illness and hurt in different ways. Psalm 147:3 says He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. You just keep praying. You'll see. God is listening and He will get the glory."

"What do you mean 'in different ways'?"

"Sometimes very sick people get well and come home. Sometimes they die and their healing takes place in heaven. In heaven, there is no sickness or pain."

"Don't say that. I don't want to think about granddad dying."

"Jake, trust God no matter what. Whether granddad lives or dies, trust God to take care of him and you."

That afternoon Jake went to the hospital to check on granddad.  

"Hey, Jake! Have you had a good day?"

"Yeah, it's been ok. How's granddad? Any news?"

"Actually yes Jake! The doctors were able to take him  off the machine that was helping him breathe. He can whisper now. He told me he knew everyone was praying for him. He said he knew that God worked a miracle!"

Jake wanted to cry again; this time happy tears.

"Did God make granddad better?"

"Yes He did. It's important to thank God and give Him all the glory."

"All to the glory of God?"

"Exactly. All to the glory of God."

After two long weeks Jakes granddad came home from the hospital. It was great to have him home, telling corny jokes and winking at grandma.

Jake hugged granddad tightly, "I was so scared. I didn't want you to die."

"Jake, God took care of me.  I knew I might not live, but God gave me peace. I wasn't afraid. I knew God would heal me either by making be well enough to come home or by welcoming me into heaven."

"Don't say that. I don't want to hear that."

"Death is a part of life. You need to know that I'm not afraid to die because Jesus is my Savior. I asked Him into my heart many years ago. There's no need to fear death."

"I think I'm beginning to understand. God gets the glory whether you live or die because of Jesus."

"That's exactly right. Jehovah Rapha, the Lord Who Heals, gets the glory!"