Leslie A Lamb/Sifted Wheat

Author: lesliealamb

  • Remembering the day we will never forget

    Remembering the events of 9/11 and the tragedy of that day is as simple as walking into my living room today, and seeing my ten year old, watching the same TV, legs criss-crossing back and forth with her chin propped in her hands, carelessly watching the Disney Channel. What a radically different picture than the fears and uncertainties that filled my heart that day…ten years ago.

    I woke up early that morning. I was nursing and Maddie was a frequent eater. We’d gotten through our five o’clock, seen Daddy off to work, checked in with Grammy on our progress and played with fingers and toes and had just settled into our last feeding before morning nap. The clock on the VCR blinked 12:00 from the day before. I reached for the remote and turned on the morning news, my only connection to the world not consumed with diapers and pacifiers.

    “A small commuter plane has accidentally flown into one of the buildings.” I listened as some lady gave her report of what she was seeing as the newscaster tried to determine how this could happen. Then as i was watching the smoke, we all saw it, those who did, the plane on the left hand of the screen plow into the parallel building. And I knew, though I’d never thought this word before, immediately my heart lurched, “terrorists.” Maddie became fussy, pushing and pulling, trying to get what my mind had accidentally, unconsciously shut off. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. We were under attack.

    I watched in horror. As the story unfolded, but Maddie had to eat and I wasn’t letting down so I forced myself to turn the TV off. It dawns on me that I never called Brian, and he didn’t call me. My one concern in all the world was her – Maddie, the sweet baby girl trying to rest in my arms. I took her to my bathroom. I don’t know why. It was small and enclosed and I had spent most of my pregnancy there, it had become a safe place. I sat on the floor, rocking her and singing and all the while praying for her, for us, for our protection, for our country, for our president, for Jesus to come and get us.

    I fell asleep there. I woke up about 30 minutes later to even more chaos. More planes and downed towers and debris and bodies and more fear and anger and questions gripped my heart. As I watched the smoke from the gaping hole in the ground and the same billowing out of the pentagon, and the ruins of the collapsed towers, I remembered the woman giving her report from the building close by just an hour before. I wondered, and I still do, is she gone? Her voice still haunts my mind at times, it was so free and light, no fear, just the thoughts and sounds of an observer. I cried. It wasn’t fair! I drove to mom and dads. I didn’t want to be alone.

    I remember it was a picture perfect day. The sky was clear and blue and as I drove I watched the jets fly over head and helicopters in the distance. There was rumor that the president was an hour and half away. The military was positioning. This was war.

    A million thoughts went through my head that day, a million voices, a million scriptures, and ten million prayers. Our lives were changed that day. Our feelings of unconditional security was stripped. America the beautiful was now America the compromised, America the vulnerable, and America the hated. Yes, our pride rallied and we held hands for about six months realizing our frailties and calling on God our only protector and keeper, but as our strength rebounded our faith dwindled.. We began to trust again in our horses and chariots and dismissed the need for a powerful God.

    I do remember powerfully one other thing from that day. My faith in God grew and my hope in my destiny was grounded. I was ready. I would do whatever the end required of me and I would trust that there was a Hope that waited with open arms for when the fight was done. And with that knowledge came peace beyond human understanding, a peace that never waned, a peace that abides still. For the second time in my life when the question “what if this is it?” filled my heart, I was able to respond with powerful truth, “then we go Home.” And, my resolve became greater, my heart more moved, and my spirit more willing to help the unfortunate, the lost, the weak, and the hurting… So that they too might join me in that final homecoming. They too might experience His peace.

    Maddie is up and about now, eating and playing and smiling and laughing. She is safe. And for that I am grateful… To God first who saves us all and to our troops and first responders who went into action that day and everyday before and since, who risked there lives, gave up their families, and allow us a look back 10 years to a day we will never forget.

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  • For the LOVE of us

    I was listening to a discussion last week in which someone said, “God didn’t create us for any other purpose but to worship and glorify Him.” I knew where they were coming from when they said that, but, as I thought about it, I had to disagree. You see, what most theologians shy away from talking about and what pastors don’t really chance to say is this: Our God is vulnerable. Yes, He is mighty and He is infinite and He is Life and He is Truth. He withstands the passage of time. He has always been, will always be, and is yet to come, but He has deep, emotional longings, and those longings culminated in us.

    When God created the earth, He had a plan. He already had angels, they were His worshippers, His Yes men, His go to guys…or spirits…we aren’t sure if they actually have a gender. If worship was what He was looking for, He had it in mass and in surround sound! No. There was something else God desired in man. He longed for companionship…He wanted a heart that loved Him, that sought Him, that wanted Him, not because it was created to or had to, but because it chose to. Therein lies the heart of God for man.

    We cannot forget this, because God is still moved by the heart of man. He still desires companionship, He longs for connection, and He seeks those that will worship Him whole-heartedly. It is this vulnerability that makes me love Him more. It should make us all love Him more…to know that the God of the universes isn’t content to simply make us but that with each stitch of bone and marrow, He planned a life with Himself!

    This is why it is important that we know our worth. This is why it is important that we feel His love. This is why He takes every day of our lives to remind us that we are not a mistake, we were not created in vain; we are chosen, we are loved, and we are His. He wants us to know…not just think, suspect, or assume…but KNOW that we are loved. Not so that we feel good about ourselves, not to stroke our egos, or give us a God-complex, but because He longs for us to accept His love! He reassures us so that we will feel good about Him! He desire’s for us to live in that truth so that we can boldly speak the power of His great LOVE to all that will listen…because then THAT person will choose to love Him, and His vulnerable heart is filled yet again, and His quiver is that much fuller, and His Son’s purpose is fulfilled.

    Jesus died, for the love of us, and it is because of that same amazing love that God created. Don’t mistake Him for a tyrannical celestial King, He is our Ever-present loving Father…seeking all that, like Him, long to be loved.

  • Hurricane Lily

    I admit that when we named our youngest child, we weren’t thinking about the fact that she would share the name with a hurricane, a very bad one, at that. There was no way we could have foreseen such activity from her, either. I’d already had one child, so when I had to jiggle my belly and consume large amounts of chocolate before this one would even roll over or stretch, I figured, “This is gonna be easy!” Ha! I would like to say I am sure in those moments the Lord above chuckled with a mysterious and knowing twinkle in His eye.

    Oh, we weren’t clued in at first. No! She was a sweet little baby..she cooed and giggled and fluttered her little lashes. I couldn’t have been more pleased!

    Fast forward a mere 8 years later… Holy Cow! Let me say, I love my Lily! She is a boisterous, energetic ball of fun, but I had no warning signs, no premonitions, just BAM! Hurricane Lily! She doesn’t stop until her little body just gives out. She wakes up ready for the day (most days…we all have our days) and she goes to sleep in pretty much the same strain of energy. I marvel at her. I am convinced that if I could bottle that I would be a quatrillionaire! (And yes, it would be a number! I would make it a number. I’d be a quatrillionaire!) But seriously, she is teaching me.

    This child is ignited and saturated with passion! She passionately loves, and she vehemently hates! And she can switch from one to the other in zero point three seconds. It’s fascinating to watch. It doesn’t take much, either. It can literally play out like this: “Oh yes, you made brownies! You are the best mom in the world!! Wait. No milk. You HATE me!” I admit it’s a little stressful, wondering what might set her off…but here is another thing about her whirlwind of emotions – they play out quickly. She absolutely does NOT hold a grudge. She has a great memory – she does like to tattle on her sister, but when it comes to her grievances, she will sooner let them go than anyone I know…myself included.

    She’s compassionate. It’s as if she instinctively knows, “This person needs me to be sensitive.” She is a good helper. In first grade she sat next to a girl that lost one of her arms to cancer – Lily made it her job to help Aiyana color when her arm got tired, and when we prayed at night, Lily always remembered Aiyana and prayed for her. In fact, this summer, when we got the news that Aiyana had gone to be with Jesus, the hurricane stopped; she looked at me with big blue eyes, wet with tears and said, “She’s coloring with both hands now.” Yep. That’s my Lily.

    She loves to make others happy. It thrills her to make us laugh, and most the time the humor is potty-related. But, she makes me belly-laugh faster than I can type LOL. She brings a smile to my face when she is concentrating on something, and when she gets it, the brightness in her eyes is precious. She writes love songs to Jesus, and tells me, “Momma, I love you one million and 76, but I love God twenty million and 77!” She loves her Daddy more than any other man on earth, and she has often pouted because he is married (and shoots me a sideways evil-eye because he married me.) She’s not perfect. We still struggle with sharing from time to time, and not a day goes by that I don’t find a new claw mark on her big sister; but she’s 8, I give her grace.

    Why am I telling you all of this? Well, today, as I was cleaning up her room (and ironically, she keeps it very tidy most days), I realized I miss her while she is at school. She really is a light in this house. She brings me more joy than I ever imagined, and I know that she makes God smile, too – probably more so then myself, because He knows what all those characteristics mean, and the woman of passion and purpose that she will one day become.  But for now, I’m still waiting for the bus to come, waiting until I hear Hurricane Lily storm in. She’ll probably rush in with a tattle on her tongue over something her sister did or some funny story she heard at school, or urgently request a new Barbie (probably a Ken doll because she is convinced that the one she plays with is cheating on President Barbie with Mermaid!)  With her, you never know, but I love it. Around here, life is never boring!

  • A Painting Snake

    It all began in the garden of Eden, when the birds were singing and the lion was napping in the embrace of the lamb, a thought entered the mind of man, a lie was spoken and doubt was planted, and we believe it still today: “God is holding out on us.”

    Whether or not we consciously admit it, we believe it. No matter how long and how hard we speak to the opposite that God is love and He is nurturing and He is kind, there is still the part of us that doubts, that wonders, that thinks the same corrosive thought. Oh satan is good, a smarmy charmer in snakeskin, he knew just what to say to make us doubt. So, when the question was posed, “Didn’t God say not to eat from this tree?” He knew good and well, that the next rational thought would be, “Why?” He waited, no doubt with an eternal smirk on his face as he planned the fall of all mankind as Eve searched for an answer, and then he pounced, forever bringing to question the love and honesty and Truth of God, “You will not surely die…You will be like Him.” You can sense the audible gasp in the garden! What? You mean, our Creator, the One that says we are created in His image, the One that loves us and made us, He doesn’t want us to be like Him?” And the lie sets root and the thought sets deep and all mankind is left to doubt, “God is holding out on us.”

    Isn’t this the very lie that holds us back? We would be bolder in our faith, speak louder, reach farther, live courageously, hope unswervingly, but what if…? What price will we pay? How much will He ask? Can I trust Him? We cautiously wade out, not trusting that the water can hold us…that walking is too hard, or the step wasn’t small enough or large enough, and so not even two steps from the bow we are clinging to the boat. We shout to the people in the boat, “Look. See? Trust Him!” and the whole time they are watching with eyes wide, disbelieving because why would they even venture to the side if you can’t even let go?

    The lie becomes more pervasive when we face the unexpected. When we get the diagnosis we didn’t want. When we hear the words we never thought we’d hear. When we face the circumstance that we never wanted and even begged God about. When we pray in belief and still our loved one dies. These are the moments that the lie wraps itself around our timid faith and we begin to call into question every good, loving, nurturing, kind characteristic of God. And the enemy whispers, “He’s holding out on you.” We agree, though we might never admit it. “Yes! He could have healed her! He could have rescued her! He could have saved her! He could have ended it!” And bitterness grows…and distance deepens…because the God that we now picture fixes us with a steely gaze and could care less about our pain, and isn’t as powerful as He once appeared. And the enemy sneers…because he’s given you the picture that he wants you to see, the picture that will strip you of hope and rob you of peace and kill your faith. The same picture that snake’s been painting for a very long time.

    But, I don’t find this picture of God. Even in the desperate sin of man and the overwhelming sadness of misfortune and illness and pain, there is not a single glimpse of this God. We can believe that lie only so long as we don’t pick up the Word of God…because when we pick up the Word of God – the reflection of Himself, His Story of His nature – we find far more. We see the eyes of a loving Father that even in the fall of man, protected and nurtured them to be a mighty nation. We see the love of a Saviour that looked beyond the grime of sin and shame to the heart and need of a people that would surely die without His sacrifice. We see a gentle Shepherd that will leave the 99 in the gates protected and provided for to search out the little bleat that insinuates danger. We see the passionate Lover that will romance us and seek for us and all the while desires the joy of knowing that we seek and long for Him. We see the Almighty God that calms the seas and heals the unlovely and sets the imprisoned and depressed free. We see the Friend that sticks closer than a Brother that weeps and grieves at loss and beckons us closer so that He might comfort our tear soaked souls. We see this God, Who gave it all, Who took it all, Who bore it all…not because He was holding out on us…but because He wants to HOLD US. Our desperation leads us to His grace. Our fear seeks His peace. Our longing needs His fulfillment…and He doesn’t hold back. He gives. The enemy knows this…and knows the power that this picture of God holds…a power that he will never have, a love that he’ll never know.

    So the rational question we all face in the midst of adversity is “Why?” I’m asking it, too. But the answer isn’t “God is holding out on you.” I know this. I don’t know what the answer is, but I know that my God is loving, caring, nurturing, forgiving, giving, and compassionate…and though He may sometimes tell us “No” it’s never because He’s punishing us. I believe this. Enough to step out of the boat. Enough to pray again, and believe again and hope again and trust again…and if you could see me now, you’d see that I’ve let go of the side of the boat.

  • Waiting Room

    There is no greater weight than waiting. It weighs heavy and doesn’t budge. You can’t push it or pull it or put it off. Waiting is a burden. It doesn’t matter what you are waiting for. I think when you have to wait it is the closest you get to understanding that you are not in control. When you are forced to wait you are reminded that there are some things that aren’t instant and as much as you feel like you can do anything, you are limited.

    I don’t do waiting well. Can you tell? Whether it’s waiting on my place in line or the phone to ring or an email to be returned, waiting and I are not friends. I really don’t do waiting well when what I’m waiting for is so very important … Like waiting for a baby to be born (especially your own!). Every day feels like a million and you think, “Maybe if I went to sleep I could wake up and she’d be here and everything would feel less long.” Sadly, my morning sickness wouldn’t let me sleep for 9 hours much less 9 months! And time doesn’t pass all that fast when your head is in the toilet.

    Waiting on death is miserable. I’ve been there, too – waiting for a healthy heart to stop beating while the rest of the body slowly shuts down. You beg for God to move swiftly and gracefully all the time hating yourself for making that call, because wouldn’t life be best? Not always. You watch the family struggle and watch the body slowly look less and less like it should, and, all the while, deep down, you know He knows and you Know He is working even when you can’t see, but it is the waiting that gets to you, tires you out, upsets you.

    Waiting on God to reveal His will is hard. Whether it’s a vision that you’ve foreseen and believe will come to pass or whether it’s the next step in your career or ministry, it isn’t easy. You wanna spin the dial or find a piece of wool somewhere or any kind of fabric really, I’ve even used paper. I’ve never found a piece of paper bone dry the next morning…that would be something, but I’ve never had that happen. It messes with your mind, because you know He is there. You know that He hears, and you Know that He has a plan…if only He would pull back the curtain and fill a sister in! (Oh wait, or brother).

    I wanna go back to the days of detached hands scrawling words on the wall. Heck! I’d even take an airplane writer in the sky, it doesn’t have to be so miraculous. I can just see some guy in a hangar waiting to take off and all the sudden he gets an idea and before he really knows what he is doing he’s written: “Leave your job” or “Take the second door” or “Wear the heels!” Of course, it might cause all kinds of confusion for others that see it, but hey! I know what it means! I’ve seen that door, I’m leaving that job! I know just the heels! Sighhh. Yeah, now that I think about it, it probably wouldn’t work.

    Waiting. I am. Are you?

    “Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.” Psalm 27:14

  • Open the Box

    It’s time to take God out of the box. We don’t do ourselves any favors by keeping Him there. He isn’t limited by what we don’t see. We are limited by what we don’t believe. Lately, my faith has been tested. I’ve been introduced to the prophetic, interceded with the tongue speakers, and covered the feet of the spiritually slain. I don’t get it. I haven’t experienced it, but to deny it is God, well, that just crams Him back into the box I’ve rebelliously fashioned. God is beyond our understanding, He works outside of our comprehension, and He moves outside of our line of sight. For that we should be grateful!

    Let me introduce you to Gloria. Gloria doesn’t put God in a box, mostly because He’s never fit in one and secondly, because how she came to know Him. Do you ever question if God loves sinners? Gloria doesn’t have to. See, Gloria was introduced to God, to the Spirit of Almighty God, high as a kite and drunk. And it all started with a question, “How you gonna come to me like this?!” See, she’d just gotten a call, from a Christian couple that wanted to help her out financially, but first they wanted to pray with her. So Gloria, not wanting to show up looking like she was three sheets to the wind, “prettied up” and met up with them, and obediently she prayed. But, something happened while she prayed. A song welled up from her chest and broke through her drunken haze and resounded in the air. She admits that she didn’t know what it was, or where it came from at first, only that it was, but as she continued to sing, a high like she had never experienced before hit her. Euphoric, we’d say. “Like that first hit of crack,” she explained. “You know, when you take that first hit, it feels so good. It takes you to this place you ain’t neva been, but what you don’t know when you get it is, you ain’t eva gonna get it again. It’s what makes crack addicts addicts. They still looking for that first high. But it ain’t comin’.” I had no idea what she was talking about. I hadn’t had that first hit, and up until that moment, I’d never talked with someone who admittedly had. She confessed that she found it strange, but she instinctively knew it was the Spirit of God. She left her friends place amazed and encouraged, because crazy as it seemed she had met God.

    I know, our God in a box wouldn’t meet a junkie in the midst of her high. He would wait, until she was sobered up or reaching out and singing “Just as I am” in church right before an alter call. You won’t convince Gloria of that. Her testimony continued, “So when I got home after that prayer and that crazy moment of high with Jesus, I came down and said, ‘God, if that’s You, You gonna do that again?” She was skeptical, but she sat in her room, completely dark, and started talking to God and sure enough, the Spirit hit her hard, just as intensely as before, just as beautifully, just as amazingly. She shook her head in the that part of the retelling of her story as she obviously felt that thrill all over again, “And I realized then, that wasn’t like any high you gonna find on earth…that God ain’t about giving one time hits and it’s over. That high was available to me at any time I asked, because my Jesus loves me.”

    It’s taken me a few days to process this testimony. It has taken me some time to wrap my arms around this God, so different from the One that I’ve grown up with, so different from the box labeled “Acceptable experience”, so different from the stories I’ve heard in the past. But as always, the proof of God is the life that is changed. Oh my beautiful Saviour, is Gloria a life changed! He might have met her as a sinner but He saved her to be more, and she hasn’t disappointed Him. See, my story of being saved at six and journeying through life and experiencing God at every turn might be enough to soften someone’s heart for Jesus, But a crack addict, a junkie, a soul desperate for the next fix, they need Gloria’s story. They need to hear that when we sing “Just as I am” we really mean wherever and whenever that might be. They need to know that God doesn’t wait for them to put on some respectable clothes and clean up, He wants to clothe them with grace and mercy, a wardrobe that withstands the test of time. They need to know that God isn’t sitting in a box somewhere waiting for some pious, religious person to deign to release Him on the masses. He is real and reaching and calling to them “Come.” He isn’t limited by our boxes, but we limit the True Life He gives when we relegate Him to one.

    It’s time to open the box, for His sake, for Gloria’s sake, but most of all for YOUR sake.

  • Monday Mourning

    Someone once said to me, “I pray for you harder on Mondays. They seem to be really tough on you.” He was right. They are, and I’m not 100% sure why. It’s like the spirit world collides with my emotions and suddenly I’m very aware of the sorrows and hardships around me. Sometimes I get the hard hitting news on Monday, and sometimes I feel the pain of sorrowful news I will receive at the end of the week. I’m not sure why and what it is all about, but I know that I always find myself on my knees and interceding on Mondays.

    I wish that I were a more entertaining writer, that my content was light and airy, but the truth is, I write when I am burdened. See, I learned this method of processing from David. I figure someone who was King and was tagged as “One after God’s own heart” must have some wisdom in how he vented. David would get upset or sad or mad and he would run to God. He would let him know how he was hurting the source of his pain and his desire for resolution and as he sang, or played, or wrote, God revealed the Truth. He does the same with me. When I get hurt or or hurt for others or feel the pain that has no name or sometimes origin, I run to Daddy God…and I pour out my heart to Him, and as I write He speaks.

    This Monday was no different. He met me with one amazing message. He met me in my shower with tear stained cheeks and shaking shoulders prostrate at His feet with one and only one word. It hit me so hard it literally took my labored breath away, and I wailed with the revelation of it. It was simply this – LOVE.

    We don’t get this. We really don’t. We can’t see this amazing, all consuming love because our pain overrides it’s truth. He loves us! Not with a fickle human love that ebbs and flows with emotion, but He has for us an eternal love, an enduring love – a love that always hopes, always believes, never fails. It’s an extravagant love, and our circumstances do not change that. He gives and He takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord!

    It’s hard to swallow at times…in the ICU watching your loved ones labored breath, asking “WHY??” When you get the news that your loved one is dead, dying, or not expected to make it, or you find out you’ve miscarried, or your unable to have children, or your child has been molested, or your son is an alcoholic, or your daughter has cancer, or you’ve lost your only friend, or your husband filed for divorce, or your teen ran away, again, or you discovered a lump…whatever it is where we find ourselves begging, pleading, searching, needing…we must always remember that He is Love.

    We must believe that He is with us even in the pain of it all. We must believe that He has the power to turn tragedy into beauty. We must trust that He can make all things new. We must cling to His promises. We must realize that nothing is impossible with Him. We must have faith that He is Who He says He is. We must believe that He hears our prayers, He feels our pain, He knows our hearts, and those groans that we cannot express find expression through His Spirit. We must.

    I have heard His heart tonight…I have cried human tears for His superhuman sorrow, and what I have felt in my own little community and world, is but the tiniest fraction of what He feels and knows and breaks His heart the world over. Our God is vulnerable to our emotions…we see testament of this throughout the Word of God. We move Him with our expression and what we feel does make a difference. He cares for us. More than we will ever know. More than we can ever believe. He cares and He loves us. It doesn’t mean our afflictions go away…it means He is our Hope, that there is beauty in ashes, and joy does come in the morning…even on Mondays.

  • Everything means EVERYTHING

    This evening is bitter sweet. I put my precious husband on a plane for 8 days this morning. You never realize exactly how much you are attached to another human being until they are gone and you cannot reach them and they cannot reach you, and you know that as advanced as technology has become sometimes you gotta feel the distance. That’s when His assurance washes over you, re-assures you.

    I was pondering my situation and feeling my loneliness when God reminded me, my husband may be gone but my Groom stands beside me. He does not sleep nor slumber, He watches me knowing that I am His. Everything is His. Psalm 24 reminds us that all the world is His and EVERYTHING in it. Everything means EVERYTHING. It means the man or woman that want nothing to do with Him. It means the little bird in the tree waiting for his mother to return that only God can see. It means the orphaned child that somehow knows he or she is loved. It means the family that has just said their final goodbyes to the one they love. It means the magnificent flowers in the jungle that no human eye will ever see. It means the ocean roaring with life to pick up the surfers waiting for the next curl. It means the little girl sitting at the window watching the rain wondering if she will ever live happily ever after, and the woman in her thirties sitting on her bed with tearstained eyes fearful that she won’t. It means the baby struggling for breath in the NICU and the man finishing his final lap of a 10 hour marathon. It means the grass of the field and the butterflies that flutter, the cow that moos and the mouse that squeaks. Everything means EVERYTHING.

    Everything means my precious husband, tired from a plane ride and expectant for the week that comes. It means my daughter who has already sent three texts because it doesn’t matter that Daddy won’t get them, she’s going to send them. It means me… the tired, lonely wife that even in her longing for the love of her life, knows the comfort only my First Love can give. It means you…who ever you are, reading this right now.

    Everything means EVERYTHING, and we can rest assured that we are His.

  • Fool’s Gold

    I’ve been pondering Matthew 25 today. Specifically, I have been dissecting the parable of the talents. It’s an interesting story to me –

    Basically this boss is going on a trip. Before he leaves he bestows his servants with a portion of his wealth. The first guy he gives a considerably large amount, five bags of gold (in the Message). The second guy he gives a moderate amount, three bags of gold, and the third guy gets the least, one bag of gold, which in the scope of things is still more than he would have had. The master goes away and leaves them to their business. After a while, he comes back to find what his servants have done with what he gave them.

    The first guy, the one that was given the most, comes and proudly shows the master what he has earned…he’s doubled the investment! The master is thrilled and says that he will be given more and he is welcome to join in the happiness! The second guy also cheerfully hands over his doubling, and the master again rejoices and tells him he will give him more, and he’s also welcomed to join. Finally we come to the last guy, the one who was given the smallest amount, and here is where I want to sit awhile because a lot is found in this account.

    I want to look at the character of the man. This is where the reaction of the master lies, I believe. The master turns to the third man and asks, “And what have you to give?” The guy goes immediately on the defensive. “Well, first of all, ALL you gave me was one bag of gold.” The insinuation here is, “You didn’t give me much to work with.” But, his audacity doesn’t end there; he continues, “And I know that you are a mean and hard man and that you aren’t fair in your dealings, so I was afraid.” Can you imagine the master’s formerly understanding face by that point?! But he continues, he finishes digging his grave by telling the “hard unyielding” master that because of that fear, he dug a hole and buried what he had, and probably with a smug look, the fool hands him back the bag of gold. The tone of the master completely changes. He is described as “Furious!” (Well, wouldn’t you be?) He looks at the guy and says, “Are you that foolish and lazy?! If I WERE such a master as you’ve believed, to do the unfair things of which you’ve accused me, at the very least you could have taken this gold to the bank and at least returned it to me with interest! But you were lazy and you were foolish and you have no part in my Kingdom!” Ouch.

    Do you wonder what Servant 1 and Servant 2 are thinking as they over hear this? I do, because, we get a glimpse of their character, too. The first guy was excited about two things: he was grateful for the money, and he eagerly went out and invested it. The second guy, though given less, is just as excited and eager. They didn’t seem to bicker over what each of them had; they simply and eagerly took what they were given and put it to work – not for themselves, but for the master. There was never a doubt as to who was going to receive the reward from that investment. They know the master is coming back. They know they have been entrusted with his wealth, and they know that whatever comes of it belongs to him when he returns. They never question his character or his motives. They don’t try to make him out to be “unyielding or hard.” You get the idea that they want to please him. They are grateful for what they have been given, and they want him to see that they are good servants. And, He does.

    The correlation with this story Jesus tells us is that this is a picture of the Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus is telling this story to His disciples in an attempt to get them to understand what is coming and what is expected. This is where we come in. This is a lesson for all of us, and today, this is what I am learning.

    First of all, the amounts given weren’t the issue. The man with five and the man with three bags of gold were given the same reward. Secondly, we all know that the master is The Master…this is Jesus. He is gone on a journey, but He will be back. (Please try not to picture him on a motorcycle with shades and a Swartzenegger accent as you read that.) And finally, we, like the servants, have all been entrusted with His wealth, and we will be held accountable for what we do with it.

    Now, let’s look at this parable in today’s terms. Upon Jesus’ departure He left us the Holy Spirit Who gives us gifts. Jesus tells us that these “gifts” are the Father’s that are imparted to us. Our gifts vary, as do their quantities, but each of us is left with something. These gifts are to be shared and extended, multiplying the Kingdom of Heaven, increasing the Master’s wealth. Let’s look at the two servants that are rewarded. What did it take? First of all, they received the gift and happily put it to use. This would be like the children of God that have multiple gifts of the Spirit. They eagerly use these gifts, doing good, and sharing the abundance and encouraging others to do the same. They enjoy the gift and don’t fear the outcome, fully trusting that He Who entrusted it will bless it. This is a beautiful picture of how God wants us to use what we’ve been given – freely, selflessly, eagerly, fearlessly.

    The next picture we get is of the “lazy and foolish” servant. This is the child of God that is fearful and skeptical. This is the child of God that fears not only the Father and what He might require of them, but this child also fears the gifting. Perhaps he or she questions the worth of what they have. Perhaps they look around at others and think, “Look what all they have, and all I have is this. I can never do that. So I will do nothing.” Fearfully, they bury that gift, saving it for themselves to eek out the smallest bit of favor from God. In the end, they will find just like the servant did, that there is no reward. God wants us to take risks. Risks say, “I trust You.” Risks say, “I’m not 100% sure I can do this, but I’m 100% sure You can.” Risks say, “Even if I die trying, it’s still worth the investment.” Fear places blame. Fear never even attempts. Fear hides and buries what could make a difference, and fear doesn’t increase the Kingdom.

    So which servant or child of God will you be? It doesn’t take much. Even a smile can yield a return… it isn’t for us to determine worthiness or wealth. It’s for Him to decide, and if it is a gift that He has entrusted to you, it’s a gift that has a purpose. “To the one that is faithful with little, much more shall be given.” Let this be your motivation to be a faithful, eager, trusting servant. After all, it’s not about what’s in it for you; in the end, it’s all His, and if we are faithful, when He comes back, we will get to join in the happiness.

  • A crown of beauty

    “Don’t be concerned about the outward beauty of fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God.” 1 Peter 3:3-4

    My daughters and I were watching television the other day and stumbled onto “Toddlers in Tiaras.” We were riveted – much like being forced to watch a train crash – you know what is going to happen but you just.cant.turn.away. It was frightening! I’m not casting judgment on these people or their children, but I can’t imagine doing that with my girls! Piling fake hair on their heads, gluing on false eyelashes, applying more makeup than I would ever wear, and inserting a mouth piece to hide their gap toothed smile. (There is just something wrong about a toddler with dentures, do you agree?)

    In direct contrast, this reminded me of a dear sister of mine that was getting her three year old daughter ready for a dance recital and had to put makeup on her for the first time. After it was applied, Abbi held the mirror up and said, “Look at you!” To which her daughter replied, “That’s not me. I’m prettier.” Good girl!

    Our quest for perfect beauty is so misguided. Peter understood, beauty is from within, a gentle and quiet spirit that fears the Lord and leads others to Him. This is what God finds precious, and this is the kind of beauty that I am investing my time and energy in with my own daughters. I want them to be women of grace and integrity. Soft women that are compassionate and real. They are naturally beautiful – it’s the soul stuff, the heart beauty, that takes the most work. I know. I’m still working on it. I’m praying for me and my girls to be awarded a crown of beauty to lay at His feet…so much better than a tiara with rhinestones. 🙂