Leslie A Lamb/Sifted Wheat

Category: healing

  • Spirit, Opportunity, and Destiny!

    I think that the church could stand to learn something from NASA. No, really! I was diligently searching the web for a recipe of something healthy and tasty for dinner..ok,ok…I was taking a break from writing and wondering how on earth I devoured an entire Almond Joy without realizing it! Anyway, the title of an article on my homepage caught my eye. NASA: Mars rover, phone home after yearlong sleep. I decided to investigate the story behind the intentionally vague title. I clicked on the story link with visions running through my mind of E.T. holding his (E.T. WAS a HE wasn’t he?) glowing finger in the air and saying, “E.T. phone home.”

    The article was about the attempts of NASA to contact the stuck Mars rover Spirit. Spirit became stuck in a sand trap in April 2009 causing it to be unable to fully tilt its solar panels towards the source of its life, the sun. NASA has continued attempts to contact Spirit on different frequencies and at different times of day in hopes of somehow reaching the rover to find out what happened and how to fix it.

    It is fascinating to me that even though Spirit’s twin rover Opportunity has continued to operate without problems, NASA still cares enough about Spirit to keep searching for that which has been lost. I know another well known “astronomical observer” that cares about the lives of lost explorers, His name is Jesus Christ. In Luke 15:4-7 Jesus tells us how heaven rejoices more over one sinner repenting and accepting salvation through Him than it does over 99 righteous people who are secure in the faith!

    Many people would have already given up on Spirit after a few days or months. Most after an entire year. But not its creators! They have remained faithful to their creation! There have been many, many people who I am quite sure wanted to give up on me. Daddy God who is MY Creator and Savior has NEVER given up on me! He, like NASA, is constantly helping me to free myself from the sinful sand traps of this world. He uses every “frequency” around me (media, dreams, other people, prayers, etc) to try and illicit a response to His Call to serve as I was created to.

    But what about the church? Have we become too joyous over being one of the 99 that we forget the 1? Do the lost get our words and thoughts of pity but nothing else? Do we give up too easily? Jesus encourages me daily to remember why I was created (to serve and please Him), what my primary mission is (to do my part of the Great Commission), and to see Him in EVERY face that turns my way!

    No brothers and sisters we cannot forget the 1! The one in your life that causes you to turn the other way at work, the one who stays in an abusive relationship because she doesn’t realize there is any other type. The one who finds release through cutting because she doesn’t know that her Savior has already bled FOR her. The one who simply cannot accept that those who look upon his tattoos and piercings with such judgmental disgust without even knowing his name or his story could worship anything other than themselves.

    I think it is time that the Body of Christ learned a lesson from NASA. God’s Beloved should always remember that while NASA’s “Opportunity” will eventually cease to function, OUR opportunities to serve will not, and while the Mars rover named “Spirit” may very well be dead, we do not have to let the Spirit within us follow suit. Thank you NASA for reminding me that Daddy God’s Hand can indeed be seen in everything if we just take the time to look.

    The 99 + the 1= 100% ;~)

  • I’m sorry, Francis…

    I was talking to some young adults a while back, and they were discussing the holiness of God, His majesty, His power, His Supreme Authority. I was soaking it all in, seeing this realization of holiness and the awesomeness of Almighty God, when one of them said, “Francis Chan said: ‘Is this the God that you fall asleep talking to at night? You should be prostrate, in a position of total servitude as you call on the name of Almighty God!’”

    Yes and no.

    Let me explain. There is no doubt that we need to recognize the God with Whom we are conversing. We need to see Him as God, acknowledge Him as Creator, and come to Him humbly – understanding the Power that He possesses and the Greatness that He is.

    He is greatness.

    But, the beauty of this majestic, all-powerful, all-consuming, all-knowing God is that He is so kind and good and loving that He lets us come to Him, at the end of the day when our hearts are heavy and our words are gone and our strength is depleted, and requires nothing of us….but to be, and if we fall asleep, He tucks us in.

    There are moments, when I am determined, when this passion rises up in me and I run to God, adamant and intentional, entering His throne room with vigor and energy, not to be disrespectful but so that He sees that I am DESPERATE to be heard. Does He shut the door, and bar the gates and tell me to go away until I “get my attitude in check, young lady!” Praise God, no! He opens wide His ears, gives me all His attention and in the process I learn yet again how Great He is and how small I am.

    There are other moments when I humbly come before Father God and whisper off a list a mile long (including but not limited to every soul that crosses my path and asks for prayer) that I’ve neatly written on a million 3x5s, as I struggle through names and procedures and dates and circumstances. Boring? Yes. Is He bored? No. Because it’s long and tedious, does that make Him any less interested? No. In fact, it’s my heart that draws Him in…my heart wants to say it all just right (the perfectionist in me) because even though He knows the details, I want to know that every detail was spoken. Perhaps He laughs, but I know He listens.

    Then there are other moments, when my child is sick and my heart is heavy and my prayer is covered in a kiss on her sweet head. God sees that kiss, and He interprets the kiss for what it is – a prayer of the heart for my sick child. I don’t have to say, “Lord, heal my baby!” He knows she is sick, He knows I long to see her well, and He hears the unspoken. Words are not needed, nor do I need to kneel beside her bed and lay prostrate before God begging Him to hear my cry…I have at times, and that’s okay…but I don’t HAVE TO.

    Then, there are these moments, which are in abundance…where I am tired and weak. When my heart is encumbered and smothered by so many needs and so many people and so many hopes and so many dreams and so much hurt and so much desperation that I simply cling. This is the God that lets me. The same God that is all-powerful and all-mighty and all-knowing, is all-loving. This same God, Creator of the universe, is the same God that gives me the right to call Him, “DADDY”, and as such, He allows me to come to Him…as a child. And as I child, I pull up to His enormous side, hide my face in His arm, and simply moan, “Daddy.” And this same great big God, soaks in all my emotions, hears all the words that aren’t said and all the feelings that are tearing me apart, and He gives me breath. His breath fills my chest with hope and mercy and love and grace and comfort, and when I leave that place, I take His breath with me…to blow it on others…so that they might know how much He loves them.

    So, I’m sorry, Francis… though He is worthy of so much more than a mumbled prayer at night…He accepts it, because that’s what Daddy’s do.

    P.S. I hope this doesn’t change the whole me wanting a mansion next to yours thing? 😉

  • About cats and dogs

    I had a friend that used to say, “I’m God’s cat.”  He would say it in an air of disappointment, in a voice of defeat, and he made it very clear what he meant.  “It’s like EVERY time I get something good …God waits until I’m practically holding it in my hands, assured that its mine and He snatches it back.”  I always got sad when I heard this.  God is not like that.

    I have suffered disappointments and heartache in my life.  I have been disillusioned and deceived.  I have been hopeful only to face to a heart wrenching outcome.  But, I would never be so selfish as to say “I’m God’s cat.”  That’s a very self-seeking statement, because it indicates that you know best.

    God is not a snatcher.  He doesn’t lure or entice.  He doesn’t invite us in so He can slam the door in our faces.  No, my brother, you’re not God’s cat…you’re the devil’s mouse.

    I cannot remember a single moment in God’s Word where that character of God expresses itself.  I see a just God, a kind God, a patient God, a righteous God, a loving God, a forgiving God, a merciful God…not a mean God.  Ever.  Even when we are deserving of meanness and unforgiveness and wrath and anger and all those other things, He still meets us with grace.  He doesn’t dangle it in front of our faces until we leap, and then jerk it away…He continually offers it.  Scarred hands open, arms wide, yearning for us to accept.

    No.  We are not God’s cats.

    I prefer to say that I’m God’s dog.  It makes far more sense to me.

    Four months ago we adopted the sweetest little puppy.  That’s a story in and of itself, but it took exactly one minute for us to fall in love with her.  She’s precious…and of course then she only weighed about two pounds, so she was fragile and tiny.  She was too little to do much else than eat and sleep, and pounce every so often at bugs so small we couldn’t see them.  Immediately she added light to a very dark time in our hearts.  We all did our part loving her and protecting her and caring for her needs, but when she was tired out or felt afraid or needed space…she came to me. I would scoop her up in my lap, nuzzle her little nose to my face, coo at her and talk to her, or pet her and let her rest on my chest to listen to the thumping of my heart, and she would be soothed.  As she grew her needs changed.  She was more independent, more feisty. Knowing I was standing beside her or behind her she would venture out on her own more, barking at neighbors she saw as threats, jumping higher, and becoming more brave and courageous with each passing day.  She’s growing still.

    One day, as I was cooking she stood by the stove, watching me at work, smelling my creation, but she didn’t whine or beg she simply watched (and licked her chops from time to time!)  After the family ate, I reached down and handed her a meat laden pork chop bone.  If you can say that a dog is thrilled about something, this dog was thrilled!  She took that bone and carried it to her corner and gnawed it dry.  She knew that she had been given a real treat.  She was thankful for it.  Cherished it.  And even now, has it hidden in the house.

    I think that’s more how we are with God and how God is with us.

    He loves us and protects us and nurtures us and provides.  When we are weak, He is especially attentive, just waiting for the moment when we crumble and finally allow Him to lift us up.  When we are tired or afraid, we have only to look for Him and He is there, scooping us up and placing us on His chest so that we can hear the heartbeat of life as it beats in Him. He is our hiding place.  In that place, He comforts us and reassures us that we are His and that He has us safe.

    As we grow stronger, He gives us that space, allowing us to explore our world, face our enemies, and find the courage to be brave.  All the while, He stands beside us.  We watch Him, as He is our Master.  And, as we watch, we understand that He is up to something good.  He sees our obedience and our hunger and so He lets us enjoy it, not faking us out with a pretend game of fetch.  He intentionally hands that gift over and watches us happily devour it, savoring each bite, until there is nothing left but the memory of it, and so we hide it away.  He loves that!

    But here is the thing, we are adopted not as cats or dogs, but we are adopted CHILDREN of the living God.  Not abused or neglected children but nurtured and protected.  Unlike me, when His children get up at two in the morning calling Him, He doesn’t mumble and complain.  He leaps and runs to help us!  With Him there is no menial task, there is no passing glance, no dangling or snatching.  He loves us.  Those that run and jump in His almighty lap yapping and begging (like me) and those that have been hurt so many times, they’d rather disappear in the colors of His robe; Daddy loves us all.