It’s in my head.

Posted on April 14, 2015 by Margaret

Every Tuesday morning a small group of women gathers in our church library to pray. We try to take God at his word: that he hears us, acts on our requests, and has the power to change the lives and circumstances we pray about.

As we sit around an oval table each week, I sometimes think about God’s perspective. Though we believe he’s near, we also know he’s watching from his high position in the heavenlies. He sees us spreading out our prayer lists and knows we’re hoping he’ll do spectacular things in the lives of those we’re about to pray for.

But he sees something else, too: the blessings he has prepared for those of us who assemble to pray.

We don’t ask for them, but our generous God has them wrapped and ready for our little group every single week. It might be an unusual prayer spoken over someone who is particularly precious to one of us. Or one of our Scripture cards might do something powerful as it’s read aloud.* Or it might be a direct word from him plunked into the heart of one of us during moments of silence between requests. Or, like today, it might be an insight shared from one woman to the rest of us.

The requests that come to us include people who desire reconciliation with someone else. This morning as we talked about forgiveness, we chose verses to pray over those people. And then we spent a few minutes talking about sins of the mind and how insidious they are, how difficult to route out.

That’s when God’s gift of new understanding came in a statement made by one of the ladies: “Why do you think Jesus died on a hill that looked like a skull?”

I’d never given much thought to the name of the place where Jesus died and what it meant: Golgotha (“place of the skull,” John 19:17). Though it’s named for its resemblance to a skull, might it include a warning to be especially vigilant to guard our minds against sin? After all, the grey matter inside our skulls is where sin-battles rage. Whether we’re making a yes-or-no decision to do something we know is wrong, or are wrestling with sins already committed that need forgiving, it’s all mental torment.

If we learn to attack evil at its starting point, in our heads, we have a much better chance of living victorious Christian lives. And today, as I understood the dramatic picture-link between “Golgotha” and the sins inside my skull (for which Christ died), I knew our generous God had given us yet another gift during our prayer time, this one an intensely practical one.

“Be transformed by the renewal of your mind…” (Romans 12:2)

*(God’s Wish List)

Growing Pains

Posted on April 13, 2015 by Margaret

Every season has its beauties, but spring might just be the most eagerly anticipated of them all. Here in southwest Michigan we’ve had an exceptionally frosty winter but finally are noticing bits of neighborhood greenery…. with great joy.

Last fall our friend Teddy planted dozens of hosta plants in my small yard, plants that were given to us by a generous friend. All winter I thought of those gnarly-looking roots buried beneath frozen dirt with a couple of feet of snow on top of them. Would they make it through? Would we see them again when spring finally arrived?

And now spring is here.

It was two weeks ago that I first began noticing other people’s perennials surfacing, but ours were still a no-show. I wondered if the transplant last October might have been too much for them. Or had they sat in my buckets too long between being uprooted and put under again?

I gently raked around the spots where the root balls had been planted, clearing away stray ivy vines, acorns, and stones along the way. I didn’t want anything to hinder their appearance. Still, two weeks after seeing other gardens take on a green glow, our hostas were MIA. I continued to check on them with hope.

Though I don’t have a very green thumb, I think that springtime anticipation of new growth is part of what draws people back to all the hard labor gardening requires, year after year. Is it possible that’s the way we ought to think about spiritual growth, too? Shouldn’t we have the same eager expectation?

Sometimes I’m not sure we even want spiritual growth. Once we learn that becoming more Christ-like usually comes wrapped in difficulties, asking for it is tantamount to asking for trouble. Like a new gardener hoping for a showcase yard without too much planting, weeding, and watering, we’d rather become spiritually mature without all the trials and tribulations.

But regardless, whether we’re feeling up for another growth spurt or comfortable where we are, asking God to take us further with him will always be a valuable prayer. And he’ll always answer it with a yes.

Sure, it will most likely be a laborious process just as yard work is difficult, but the satisfaction we experience when our perennials peek through the dirt can’t compare to an increased understanding of God and his ways.

As for my hostas, yesterday I checked one more time, and lo and behold, I found several tiny green points reaching for the sun. I was so happy, I let out a whoop that even startled Jack. May I be even more excited than that to see the tiniest sign of growth in Christ…. in my life.

“Let us leave the elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity.” (Hebrews 6:1)

Hand-in-Hand

Posted on April 8, 2015 by Margaret

Now that the weather is warming, Emerald and I have been sharing responsibility for taking Jack on his late afternoon walk. For quite some time now she’s been pleading with me to let her hold his leash, and this week she finally became the dog-walker.

Since Jack doesn’t have the energy to sprint for squirrels anymore, the odds were good that Emerald wouldn’t be dragged down the road as she clutched the leash. Nevertheless, I kept a close eye. If Jack stopped, stiffened his tail, and perked up his ears, I quickly reach down and closed my hand over Emerald’s, adding the necessary strength needed if he should bolt.

It’s true that Jack no longer wastes energy on little critters, but a nice big deer is another story. Recently he spotted one well before I did, but his body language told me he was about to run. In a split second I had my hand over Emerald’s and held on tight. Though he did try, we successfully held him back…. together.

Emerald’s toddler-strength probably couldn’t even hold a chipmunk back, but when our hands were locked together, she remained safe.

What a great parallel to how God cares for us. We might be drawn into a situation that’s too much to handle, whether willingly or unwillingly, so we cry to God for help. He is willing to cover our weakness with his strength the same way my hand covered Emerald’s.

One example from my own life came during my early days of widowhood. I remember being overwhelmed by sadness, and day after day I was stuck there, feeble in every way. If it hadn’t been for God’s strong partnership (or we could say his strength wrapped around my weakness), I think I’d be in that same place still.

Each day when Emerald and I walk Jack now, she expects to hold the leash herself, blissfully unaware of any risks. “Ewa hole it,” she says. She has no idea I’m watching carefully, trying to stay one step ahead of anything that might harm her.

God does the same thing. Sometimes we think we don’t need him to cover us with help or protection. But he says, “I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.” (Psalm 32:8) In other words, he’ll give us his recommendation, but if we insist on handling things our own way, he’ll step back and let us do it. All the while, though, he’ll keep an eye on us, watching for danger. I find that very reassuring.

Where we get into trouble is when we ourselves become aware that danger is ahead but still say, “I don’t need your help, Lord.” Thankfully it takes only a few of those incidents (along with their often-difficult conclusions) to convince us that doing things hand-in-hand with him is always the better choice.