I know that I am a soldier.
I mean, I have been singing about it since Sunday School at age 3, "I'm in the Lord's Army...", zooming over the enemy, riding in the Calvary. I have read and reread the Scriptures about the armor, and fighting the good fight. And there are days that I wake up ready to be on the front lines, the Sword of the Spirit in my hand and in my mouth and in my mind.
But then there are the other days. The days that I am a reluctant soldier, a weary infantryman and even at times, a wounded one. The days that just picking up my Sword feels awfully difficult and my battle-weary mind can't seem to wrap around the truths that I need to "gird up my loins." When making breakfast for 4 children seems like an all out war, I can't even begin to consider what the assault will be like when we open up our books for school.
These are the days that I am so glad, so blessed, so rescued, by the fact that this is not a war of one, and I am not standing alone facing an enemy, who, though I know he is defeated, I sometimes allow to convince me that he is not. These days that being in the Lord's Army overwhelms me are the days that our Commander In Chief sends other soldiers to come beside me, to hold my hand, or behind me, to lift me up, or in front of me, for me to follow their example. When I see others who are enlisted and facing battles so much greater than mine, yet are walking in victory and truth as they fix their eyes on the Prize. I shake off my failure, my doubt, my laziness, and I am encouraged to stand beside them , to join the brethern, the band of warriors and to walk out this day living by the Orders I've been given and driven by Love, responding to Love, warring for Love.
Thank you, fellow soldiers- you know who you are! Mothers, fathers, friends, bloggers, homeschooling moms, grocery check-out clerks, mail deliverers, lawn maintainers. Keep the faith, fight the good fight, put on your armor and think of the others just like you that you have lifted up by your example, and the of the One who did not despair but keep His eyes on the joy set before Him. On to the battle!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Splinters of Sin
Sometimes it's the little things, the smallest things, the things that we can't see for ourselves, that cause us pain.
My husband brought me the tweezers this morning, propped up his foot in front of me, and said, "Do you see anything there? I can't see it, and something hurt me all day yesterday."
I shined my booklight on his foot, and there is was- a tiny, tiny splinter, right in the center, that came out with barely a pull.
He expressed his relief- ahhhhhh- and went on, getting ready for work, to start another day. "Thank you so much- that feels so much better," he said, and was uniformed up and off to work again.
And then I sat down with my Bible and these words came off the page- "And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by Whom you were sealed for the day of redemption." Ephesians 4:30
Yes, a splinter's a small thing, but it grieved my sweet spouse all day. It bothered him while he worked. It was on his mind, something invisible to his eye, but annoying to his body.
How "big" does the sin have to be to be a grievance to what the Holy Spirit wants to do in my life? Is a lie big enough? Or a word of gossip disguised as a prayer request? Or maybe I consider an affair, or stealing to be the size of sin that begins to affect me?
I need a light shined on the offense to help me see what it is that is causing me pain, a strong, powerful Light, the Light of the world. And sometimes I need someone else that I trust enough to ask to shine the Light for me, to help me to find and point out the thing that needs to be removed.
And ahhh, the relief when the splinter's gone, the ease of walking again with nothing to hinder me.
Thank you Father, that You love me enough to want me to be splinter free, sin free, hinderance free, grievance free. Shine Your Light on me to show me what needs to be removed, and give me the courage to ask those You've placed in life what they might see that causes me pain because it keeps me from You.
My husband brought me the tweezers this morning, propped up his foot in front of me, and said, "Do you see anything there? I can't see it, and something hurt me all day yesterday."
I shined my booklight on his foot, and there is was- a tiny, tiny splinter, right in the center, that came out with barely a pull.
He expressed his relief- ahhhhhh- and went on, getting ready for work, to start another day. "Thank you so much- that feels so much better," he said, and was uniformed up and off to work again.
And then I sat down with my Bible and these words came off the page- "And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by Whom you were sealed for the day of redemption." Ephesians 4:30
Yes, a splinter's a small thing, but it grieved my sweet spouse all day. It bothered him while he worked. It was on his mind, something invisible to his eye, but annoying to his body.
How "big" does the sin have to be to be a grievance to what the Holy Spirit wants to do in my life? Is a lie big enough? Or a word of gossip disguised as a prayer request? Or maybe I consider an affair, or stealing to be the size of sin that begins to affect me?
I need a light shined on the offense to help me see what it is that is causing me pain, a strong, powerful Light, the Light of the world. And sometimes I need someone else that I trust enough to ask to shine the Light for me, to help me to find and point out the thing that needs to be removed.
And ahhh, the relief when the splinter's gone, the ease of walking again with nothing to hinder me.
Thank you Father, that You love me enough to want me to be splinter free, sin free, hinderance free, grievance free. Shine Your Light on me to show me what needs to be removed, and give me the courage to ask those You've placed in life what they might see that causes me pain because it keeps me from You.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Thinking about God
She'd taken the discipline like a big girl.
She understood the reason for it;
disobedience had no excuse,
and she understood.
We talked about obedience, and discussed forgiveness,
she cried a little, and I carried out the spanking.
We prayed.
"Help us, Father, to obey the first time, cheerfully,
and well."
I held her tight, snuggled her up, restoring our closeness,
then she said:
"I'm just going to sit here a minute and think about God."
She huddled under that blanket, still.
Thinking.
A quiet moment passed,
receiver of discipline, thinking about God.
Giver of discipline, thinking about God.
A kiss, and she was down, gone on,
all restored, forgiven and back to play,
confident that her next encounter with obedience would be different.
She'd been still.
She'd thought about Him.
And I had too, led to the throne of forgiveness
by the little one who I was trying to teach the way.
"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10
"All discipline for the moment seems to be sorrowful;
yet to those who have been trained by it,
afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness."
Hebrews 12:11
She understood the reason for it;
disobedience had no excuse,
and she understood.
We talked about obedience, and discussed forgiveness,
she cried a little, and I carried out the spanking.
We prayed.
"Help us, Father, to obey the first time, cheerfully,
and well."
I held her tight, snuggled her up, restoring our closeness,
then she said:
"I'm just going to sit here a minute and think about God."
She huddled under that blanket, still.
Thinking.
A quiet moment passed,
receiver of discipline, thinking about God.
Giver of discipline, thinking about God.
A kiss, and she was down, gone on,
all restored, forgiven and back to play,
confident that her next encounter with obedience would be different.
She'd been still.
She'd thought about Him.
And I had too, led to the throne of forgiveness
by the little one who I was trying to teach the way.
"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10
"All discipline for the moment seems to be sorrowful;
yet to those who have been trained by it,
afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness."
Hebrews 12:11
Friday, January 1, 2010
New Year Cleaning
I am selfish.
And sometimes ungrateful.
Sometimes I yell at my children,
and I have been known to be impatient. (!)
There are times that I am negative and discouraging,
and at times I operate out of more fear than faith.
Perfectionism, criticism, doubt, busyness:
these have all been known to be my companions.
No, I'm not proud of that list at all. In fact, I'm ashamed.
I'm embarrassed.
But as I began a few weeks ago to think about the new year,
to clean out closets, and under beds,
cabinets and drawers,
I begin to sense that the Spirit was calling me out for a cleaning, too.
For some hidden things to be wiped off, and dusted,
and brought out into the open for some contact with the Light.
And during this process, He has been so gentle, and so kind,
and I have hung my head in shame before Him to see the things that He sees-
sin.
No other word to describe it, no covering up with better sounding words like "mistake",
or "character-flaw"-
just sin.
But oh, the grace that flows down when I face the Truth,
the Beauty of the Mercy that covers my shame,
and the joy of the cleansing.
There is so much peace that comes when I face my sin and say,
"This is ugly. This is wrong. This is hurting my relationship with You."
As I pull it all out and put it before Him,
showing Him all the "hidden" things that are never hidden from Him,
"He is faithful and just to forgive me from my sin and cleanse me from all unrighteousness. "
1 John 1:9
The Word becomes Life in my life,
and I trade my filthy rags for His robe of righteousness.
In my house, the smell of Pine Sol, comforting to me,
sends the message that I have been at work to get things ready for the New Year.
Fresh, clean.
And in my soul, His blood has done the same.
Thank You, Father.
I start this year with so much appreciation for Your grace, Your mercy,
Your bringing out into the open the things that are dirty and making them clean.
Joy, peace, kindness.
Patience, perseverance, faith.
Rest, waiting.
Now, this list,
this list of things You bring as I live in Your Spirit,
this is a list I can be proud of.
Ahh, the pleasure of being clean.
Happy New Year, Lord!
And sometimes ungrateful.
Sometimes I yell at my children,
and I have been known to be impatient. (!)
There are times that I am negative and discouraging,
and at times I operate out of more fear than faith.
Perfectionism, criticism, doubt, busyness:
these have all been known to be my companions.
No, I'm not proud of that list at all. In fact, I'm ashamed.
I'm embarrassed.
But as I began a few weeks ago to think about the new year,
to clean out closets, and under beds,
cabinets and drawers,
I begin to sense that the Spirit was calling me out for a cleaning, too.
For some hidden things to be wiped off, and dusted,
and brought out into the open for some contact with the Light.
And during this process, He has been so gentle, and so kind,
and I have hung my head in shame before Him to see the things that He sees-
sin.
No other word to describe it, no covering up with better sounding words like "mistake",
or "character-flaw"-
just sin.
But oh, the grace that flows down when I face the Truth,
the Beauty of the Mercy that covers my shame,
and the joy of the cleansing.
There is so much peace that comes when I face my sin and say,
"This is ugly. This is wrong. This is hurting my relationship with You."
As I pull it all out and put it before Him,
showing Him all the "hidden" things that are never hidden from Him,
"He is faithful and just to forgive me from my sin and cleanse me from all unrighteousness. "
1 John 1:9
The Word becomes Life in my life,
and I trade my filthy rags for His robe of righteousness.
In my house, the smell of Pine Sol, comforting to me,
sends the message that I have been at work to get things ready for the New Year.
Fresh, clean.
And in my soul, His blood has done the same.
Thank You, Father.
I start this year with so much appreciation for Your grace, Your mercy,
Your bringing out into the open the things that are dirty and making them clean.
Joy, peace, kindness.
Patience, perseverance, faith.
Rest, waiting.
Now, this list,
this list of things You bring as I live in Your Spirit,
this is a list I can be proud of.
Ahh, the pleasure of being clean.
Happy New Year, Lord!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)