Category Archives: Hearing from God

Thank you.

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Those of us who started attending church when we were on the cradle roll are happy to talk about God. We’re usually faithful to pray, and we’re even comfortable with praying out loud if asked. After all, Jesus became our childhood friend as we met him through flannelgraph stories in Sunday school. Talking to him was much like talking to any of our other friends.

Then we grew older and learned there was more to it than that. We realized God wasn’t on a par with any of our other friends but was unique, superior, someone who merited reverence and awe, and the utmost of respect.

Eventually we were taught that to fear the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and surely approaching God ought to be done as wisely as possible. Did that mean he wanted us to be afraid of him when we prayed? If so, then why did he tell us to “come as little children” and “come boldly to the throne of grace?” Can we come to him that way if we’re afraid?

At the very least, fearing God probably means respecting his authority and power. He’s the ultimate in both categories and can do anything he wants with anything he’s created, which includes us. If we’re on his bad side, he is to be feared indeed, since he will judge all of mankind. He also wants us to revere him as God of gods, holy and perfect.

While I was contemplating what might be the wisest way to approach the Lord, probably making it more complicated than it needed to be, I heard someone pray a wise prayer. Sandy was asked to pray at the conclusion of our women’s Bible study today. We’d had a discussion about true wisdom and fearing God. If I’d been the one praying, I probably would have started by begging God to give us more wisdom, but not Sandy.

She started by thanking God for who he is and continued to list reasons all of us were thankful for him. The middle of her prayer was more gratitude, one thing after another, and she concluded with a final series of thank you’s. Her prayer was all about the Lord and nothing about us.

How unusual, I thought, to pray for several minutes without ever asking for anything. It was simply thank you… thank you… thank you.

And it was wise.

“The Lord said… ‘Gather the people to me, that I may let them hear my words, so that they may learn to fear me all the days that they live on the earth, and that they may teach their children so’.” (Deut. 4:10)

 

Is that you?

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Ever since the Easter service this morning, I’ve been thinking about the pastor’s sermon.  We walked with two of Jesus’ disciples on their 7 mile journey to Emmaus, seeing their sadness and hearing their disappointment about the crucifixion. Having listened to (and watched) Jesus teach, they knew what he looked like. Yet when he walked next to them and even conversed with them, they had no inkling it was him.

We also read that Mary didn’t recognize him, either, mistaking him for someone else. She questioned him about the empty tomb, probably focusing on his face to get the answer. It’s astounding she didn’t recognize her very good friend.

Then there’s the puzzling incident when Jesus suddenly appeared among his 11 remaining disciples inside a home. This time it wasn’t just a matter of not recognizing him. They were also terrified, thinking he was a ghost. He had to play show ‘n tell with them to convince them it was really him. When they still weren’t sure, he proved he wasn’t a ghost by eating some fish.

As we shadow the risen Jesus from the time he left the tomb until he ascended to heaven, these curious responses of non-recognition seem to be the norm. The only logical conclusion is to assume he didn’t look “like himself.” We know he had a glorified body but don’t know exactly what that means. We do know he was able to walk through walls and transport himself quickly from one geographical place to another.

We also know his countless severe wounds from lashings, a crown of thorns, nails and an abdominal stabbing had completely healed in less than three days. But what was it that made recognition happen? When did they “get it?”

The two men in Emmaus identified Jesus at the dinner table. It was his way of saying grace and breaking bread that caused them to realize, “It’s him!” For Mary it was his voice. And for the 11, it was becoming convinced he wasn’t a ghost.

In other words, his glorified self was more about who he was than what he looked like.

In this world we often act as if appearances are what count. The risen Jesus taught us, however, that the most important thing is what’s inside.

And that goes for all eternity.

“Our dying bodies must be transformed into bodies that will never die; our mortal bodies must be transformed into immortal bodies. Then, when our dying bodies have been transformed into bodies that will never die, this Scripture will be fulfilled: ‘Death is swallowed up in victory’.” (1 Corinthians 15:53-54)

 

Inner Promptings

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Last week as I cleaned out a large, glass-front hutch, I needed to find new homes for over 50 pieces of decorative glass. The neighborhood consignment shop, a charity outlet and willing friends all factored into placing these items I loved but had no room to keep. But one piece went someplace special.

It was a glass purse [much like this picture but in cobalt blue], about 6″  high with clear glass handles. I’d noticed at our local bank that one of the tellers collects glass handbags and shares them with the rest of us by arranging them around her bank window.

I wondered if she would like my cobalt purse and decided to take it along on my next visit to the bank. I stuffed the glass purse into my leather one but then began having second thoughts. “What if her collection was given by a mother or grandmother and was based in sentimentality? What if she didn’t want any more purses? What if she said, ‘No thanks’? What if she wasn’t even at work that day?”

I didn’t know this woman personally and wasn’t sure how she’d respond. But after getting tired of my own negative back-and-forth, I decided to ditch my worries and give it to her, even if it turned out badly.

Waiting at her teller station surrounded by pretty purses, I felt self-conscious. Others were standing behind me, watching. When she finally came, I nudged my glass purse toward her and sheepishly said, “Is there room for one more?”

She gasped with delight and clapped her hands together, then threw them both  in the air. Picking  it up carefully as if it were an injured baby bird she said, “Oh my goodness! It’s absolutely gorgeous! Oh my word! Really? Oh dear! Thank you!”

On and on she lavished praise on my little offering and on me, and I felt like a kindergartener who’d just become student of the week. As I walked to the car, I thought back to my negative self-talk and felt ridiculous. How silly to have worried over her reaction.

Mary reminded me later of a quote from George Sweeting: “Never suppress a generous impulse.” I like that, because it’s a clean-cut way to make a quick decision without the stress of second-guessing. Besides, it’s a good way to live.

So what was behind my wishy-washy self-talk? The answer can only be self-focused pride. I was nervous about what she (and the others in line) would think of me. I was afraid of being embarrassed or rejected. And I wanted to be approved of, as a gift-giver.

God clearly states the dangers of prideful thinking:

  • Pride leads to disgrace…
  • Pride leads to conflict…
  • Pride goes before destruction…
  • Pride ends in humiliation… (Proverbs 11, 13, 16, 29)

Avoiding all of these is a good idea.

When I returned to the bank today, I used the drive-thru. “My” teller was managing the vacuum tubes, and when she saw me, she thanked me enthusiastically for the purse. By her kind response, she’s underscored a good rule to live by: never suppress a generous impulse.