The One Thing

I'm not normally accused of having tunnel vision.  You know,  being intently focused on just one thing, project or goal.  I'm more apt to be pinging  from one thing to another in some weird circular, random manner.  I am not naturally linear, I'm not a big goal setter, I'm a "Oooh! Look!  It's so shiny!" type of person.  And… I've discovered that there are some things that I want so badly that I gain serious tunnel vision. 

There's a woman in the Bible that had tunnel vision.  She had every right to have tunnel vision.  She was desperate for healing and she was willing to do just about anything to find an answer to her predicament.  

This woman had been bleeding for twelve years. The Bible even says she had spent every penny she had on doctors and there was no answer to her problem.  This woman, who no one had been able to make well, had heard that Jesus was in town.  We aren't told how much she knew about Jesus.  We are left to assume that she had heard about miracles He had performed and others who had been healed.  We don't know if she had any family or if anyone even allowed themselves to be around her since constant bleeding would have made her unclean and unacceptable.  We are given just a glimpse of her because she sneaks into the crowd that is pressing around Jesus as He is headed to the home of a local synagogue leader to heal his sick daughter.  The woman pushes and nudges her way through the crowd, probably with her head down so no one recognizes her, perhaps she's even crawling on the ground because the next thing that happens is she touches the hem of Jesus' robe.  In an instant she is healed and Jesus begins scanning the crowd and asks, "Who touched me?"

One would think, that someone with such tunnel vision, as soon as she had received what her heart most yearned for she would have begun to do the happy dance!  I imagine I would've wanted the world to know what had just happened, but she doesn't want to be found out.  The story doesn't tell us why she still wants to hide.  Perhaps it's because she knows she's not supposed to be amongst the crowd, after all she's an outcast.  Perhaps it's because she didn't ask Jesus to heal her and yet He did, and she doesn't know what He may ask of her in exchange.  Perhaps she's already begun pushing her way back through the crowd to go find those she loves to tell them the good news, and to admit it was her means she has to turn around and delay sharing her joy. 

The disciples step in here and try to move Jesus and the crowd along to the synagogue leader's home.  They state the obvious: "there are many people touching you, we are in a crowd."  I like the fact that there's a bit of disciple humor in this story.  It reassures me that I'm not the only one who's a bit slow to catch on to what Jesus already knows.  I don't think Jesus had to be told who touched Him.  I'm convinced He knew.  He may have been the Son of Man, and He was also the Son of God, and I'm sure he was looking through the crowd to help encourage the woman with a look of love that said it was okay to step forward. 

I'm so like the bleeding woman.  There are times I have tunnel vision and I think if Jesus will just do this one thing for me, I'll be good, life will just about be perfect.  Have you ever pleaded with God for "just this one thing….?" Have you ever realized that the just one thing later becomes a new one thing, and then later another new one thing? In the story of the bleeding woman, Jesus knew that the one thing for the bleeding woman, though so very significant, wasn't really what she needed.  So Jesus presses the issue and declares that someone has touched Him and he felt healing power leave him.  Luke 8:47 & 48 says, "When the woman realized that she could not stay hidden, she began to tremble and fell to her knees in front of him.  The whole crowd heard her explain why she had touched him and that she had been immediately healed. 'Daughter,' he said to her, 'your faith has made you well.  Go in peace.' "

I think in that moment Jesus wanted to hug her and hold her tight.  Fear was radiating from her in spite of the fact that she had what she wanted.  The bleeding woman was no longer bleeding but she was still in bondage.

For the woman to not only be healed, also free to live, she had to come face to face with Jesus.  She fell at the feet of the only one who could help her, she confessed what she did and she received mercy and grace.  Jesus called her daughter, accepting her into His family.  He assured her that her faith had healed her, there was no shame, no condemnation, nothing to have to do to make up for 12 lost years.  From this moment on, she was to live in peace.  Jesus knew she wanted healing, and He knew she needed to be freed. 

I've been struggling over my own "one thing."  I've been begging God for answers to my questions and He's been telling me I need to wait.  I've begun to be tired in the waiting, and I've started to plead for "just one hint…"  The Holy Spirit reminded me that my soul isn't healed by the "one thing."  I find healing and freedom when I fall at the feet of Jesus, confess where I am, what I've done, what's hard, what's confusing… and allow Him to speak.  At the feet of Jesus, I'm reminded that I am His and He is mine.  He calls me daughter, welcomes me into His presence as one who belongs, as one who is dearly loved.  He strengthens my faith by confirming that when I come to Him with my need(s), He is powerful enough to supply.  At Jesus' feet the "one thing" is superseded by complete healing and wholeness.  And then He sends me back to living, encouraged, equipped and empowered by His peace.

The bleeding woman received healing and wholeness.  Jesus gave her more than she asked for; Jesus met her in the middle of her deepest need.  Jesus meets me, and you too.  He's asking us to release the "one thing," and fall at His feet.

Truly Seeing God

Yesterday was one of "those days."  Nothing horrible happened,  I was productive in getting a few things checked off my to do list, and I went through the day in an emotional funk.  I will even admit that about 12:30, I gave up and put my pajama pants back on with a comfy sweatshirt and my slippers.  The appointment I had gotten dressed for was over and I really wanted to just crawl under a blanket, binge watch whatever and eat junk food all day.  I suppose it was lucky for me that the main task that needed to be done could be done in my pajamas, with a popcorn bowl nearby, and reruns of Monk playing to keep me company. 

Or perhaps I accomplished a task, and missed how God wanted to show up for me.

I began my day with my emotions teetering on the cusp of being hormonal.  I had my quiet time and God tried to speak to me with verses that spoke of His kindness, and that He helps us when life is hard to be filled with abundant joy.  He prodded me to give myself first to Him with the example of the Corinthians in 2 Corinthians 8:5 ("… they had first given themselves unreservedly to God…" The Message).  I missed what He was speaking into the middle of my immediate circumstance though and dutifully jotted down notes that fit the passage as a whole.  In my notes I wrote, "Don't rationalize away the extra giving!  Focus on giving self completely to God -- trusting His wisdom, His resources, His purposes and be brave enough to ask: what do you want me to give?"    All I could see was giving of resources, or time, or perhaps a particular gifting.  I couldn't see that God was begging me to give my emotional state, my complete self in that particular moment, and trust that He would provide what I needed to know His presence and His joy. I wasn't brave enough to believe that with His resources He could wisely provide what I was lacking.

God is persistent and He tried again through a YouVersion devotional plan I've been going through.  I read Isaiah 43:1-7 and journaled "Listen to the Lord who created you… He is the One who formed you."  The Holy  Spirit reminded me that I belonged to God, that He is always with me… ALWAYS. I copied down part of verse 4 and 5, "…you are precious to me. You are honored and I love you.  Do not be afraid, for I am with you." I read John 14:25-31 and journaled, "Satan has no power over me…. Focus on the peace God gives, He is in control."  And yet, I stubbornly remained emotionally bound, lacking in joy and peace.

I battled with my emotions all day, as evidenced by the empty ice cream bowl that I removed from my office this morning.  I ached to feel better, but didn't take the time to truly crumple before the throne of grace and beg for mercy.  I had my whole, "I've got this" attitude going, figuring I just needed to power through.  As I look back from the perspective of today, I don't think that's what God longed for me.  On a chalkboard in my office I currently have written, "Be strong through the grace God gives you in Christ Jesus." (2 Timothy 2:1b). I was relying completely on my own strength and my own wisdom, trying to just make do.  Jesus is the giver of abundant life; I don't think He ever wants me to "just make do." 

That verse from 2 Timothy popped up in my quiet time this morning, along with more of the chapter.  This morning, I was more open to listening to what God wanted to say into my immediate moment.  The imagery in 2 Timothy 2 of a soldier grabbed my imagination.  My son is in the military and I've learned that pleasing one's commanding officer and following direct orders is of extreme importance.  It doesn't matter if my son likes the task or not, if he think it's fair or not, if the commanding officer speaks, he follows orders.  Second Timothy 2:3 tells me I'm to be a good soldier of Christ Jesus.  When He speaks, I'm to listen, and follow His orders.  I'm to behave in a way that He declares is acceptable.  I'm to trust that He will have my back.  I'm to believe in the mission that He provides. I wasn't a good soldier yesterday and I believe God was more sad than I was.  This morning, God welcomed me into His presence again with open arms.  He didn't criticize yesterday's level of obedience.  He didn't chastise me, or punish me.  And He was faithful to speak … again, working to open my eyes to the truth of who He is and the reality of my lack of faith. 

My emotional state is more stable today.  AND I am more aware of my desperate need for God's grace, mercy, forgiveness, and strength in my life.  I am grateful to be reminded (again!) that this life is not about me.  I've been given my orders to bring glory to God.  My heart is praying today, as I work through my to-do list, seeking God's affirmation, God's direction, and God's blessing.  I want to be a good soldier.  I have been saved, forgiven, redeemed.  The creator of the world has stepped into my every day world, and provided peace, wonder and joy.  Oh that I may focus on all that God is today.  May I crumple at the foot of the cross and beg for grace, that I may be of service and bring Him glory. 

The Good Spot

I love a good story.  Ever since learning to read, I could get lost in a book.  My summer memories tend to center around the summer reading challenge that the local library always held.  I even had a secret reading spot in a hidden opening tucked in one of our front yard bushes.  I can get lost in a good movie and not even realize if there is anything "inappropriate"; I get so entranced with the story that some details escape me.  I've discovered that as I read God's Word, I tend to see things in picture or in story.  That happened this morning as I read Psalm 18.

Psalm 18:2 came alive this morning in western style.  In verse 2 David says, "The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection."  I'm sure David never saw a John Wayne movie, or even an episode of Bonanza.  As I began to read the verse, I read it in typical Sunday School style, envisioning rocks like that in the flannel graph pictures of my childhood.  I pictured a city with fortified walls just like the pictures I've seen of old Jerusalem.  Then I got to "…my rock, in whom I find protection" and my mind went cowboy.  I saw David, with his cowboy hat on, and a pistol in his hand, hunkered down behind a large boulder as guys, all dressed in black, were shooting at him from various angles.  David, the Good Guy, was safe, because he had found the perfect boulder that would protect him from the enemy.  Good Guy David could conveniently peek around and pick off all the bad guys one by one, because, obviously, being the Good Guy, David is the best shot there is. 

The Psalmist, Cowboy David, continues in verse 2 to say, "He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety."  The good guy in a western doesn't just stand up from behind the boulder as if to say, "Here I am!!  Shoot me now!"  The good guy is wise; he hunkers down close to the rock and he waits for the best time to make his move.  To remain protected, the good guy stays behind the rock, as close to that rock as he can get because he knows that's his place of safety. 

As I was enjoying my fresh-eyed approach to the Psalm, God spoke.  God reminded my heart that to be truly protected from whatever temptation, struggle or battle I might face, I had to be hunkered down close to the Rock.  I can't be standing looking around at what might be going on, or be distracted by the intensity of the struggle, or the number of temptation bullets that might be flying around me.  I need to be snuggled as close to the presence of God as I can get.  I need to know that Rock intimately, every curve, every pebble, every shade.

Psalm 18:2 is a powerful statement of the character of God.  He is my  ROCK: steady, stable, solid. He is my FORTRESS: strong, safe, surrounding. He is my SAVIOR: my rescuer and redeemer. He is my HIDING PLACE: "the rock, in whom I find protection." He is my SHIELD: defender, barrier, deflector, defender.  He is THE POWER: awesome, unstoppable, overwhelming, destroyer, winner.  He is my SAFETY: tender, restful, presence of peace. 

I have recently come to the realization that I like life to fit into my perfectly pictured box.  When surprise events happen, I try to figure things out so that life will still fit into the box that I think it should fit into. Many times this is basically an exercise in creative rearranging for me.   I'm pretty adaptable, and I figure that's just life, and you need to sometimes just "roll with it."  That's all good . . . .   until I have elements that don't fit anywhere within what I pictured the box should look like.  God is teaching me to live outside the box, to let the box go, and join Him in His adventure. 

Honestly?  Being a Good Guy Cowboy, hunkered behind a boulder with bullets flying all around has never been anything inside my box.  Psalm 18:17-19 says, "He rescued me from my powerful enemies, from those who hated me and were too strong for me. They attacked me at a moment when I was in distress, but the Lord supported me.  He led me to a place of safety; he rescued me because he delights in me."  I've experienced enough of life to know that being rescued doesn't mean that life goes back to fitting into my perfect, ideal box.  Being in a place of safety doesn't necessarily mean a six figure income, a cute wardrobe, and friends to hang out with every Saturday night.  And I can cling to the truth that God, the one whose character is described as Rock, Fortress, Savior, Hiding place, Shield, Powerful and Place of Safety, THAT GOD, He delights in me. "For I have kept the ways of the Lord; I have not turned from my God to follow evil." (Psalm 18: 21)

There is a Good Spot, it's a sweet spot for all us Good Guy cowboys.  The Good Spot is hunkered down close to Jesus.  Memorizing every one of His character traits,  and snuggling up so tight that one can feel how solid and immovable He is.  There may be bullets flying, the enemy may be sneaky and strong, I may be asked at some point to engage in the battle -- and I am one in whom God Almighty delights.  I can wear my boots with joy and peace; "The Lord is my rock, my fortress, my savior; my God is the rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety."

One Year

Today is an anniversary.  I looked up the word anniversary, I don't want you to think I've completely lost it,  I do know what it means…  and I wondered if perhaps there was more to the definition than I was aware.  It's basic meaning is what we all think: "a yearly recurrence of the date of a past event." (Dictionary.com)  The second meaning for the word is "the celebration or commemoration or such a date."  When I hear someone use the word anniversary, I realize there is an emotional connection to whatever occurred on that particular day.  My initial assumption is to think of anniversary in a celebratory way just like the definition alludes, and I like the alternate word the definition gives: commemoration.  Perhaps that's the better word for today.

Today marks the one year anniversary of my father's passing.  I have been concerned about my mom as this day has approached.  I knew I would feel sad, revisit the sense of loss, and I figured my mom would feel it more intensely. She now lives alone, and is too many miles from me for me to just jump in my car and spend time with her.  The reactions and flood of emotions I'm experiencing today have caught me a bit off guard:  I've already cried more today before noon than I did a year ago in the whole week after he died.  Perhaps that's because a year ago, I was living how ready he was to be home with Jesus, and I wanted him so desperately to have his heart's desire realized. Perhaps it's because I felt I needed to be "strong" for my mom, and today I'm just home alone.  Perhaps we were too busy with scheduling the funeral, and making arrangements for the family to gather and today my time is filled with just laundry. 

Today, I'm realizing afresh the things I wish I could tell him. I want to tell him about my daughter and how she's working to become a certified teacher.  I want to tell him about my son and that he's a Corporal now in the Marines. I want to share the pictures I took in Yosemite and compare them to the pictures he took years ago. I want the opportunity to hear him speak my name,  to listen to him pray, to see him sitting in his chair with his open Bible on his lap. My inner child wants to race him as we both make our beds, because surely by now I can win.  And yet…  I would never ask him to leave the glory of the presence of God that he now knows. 

I was thumbing through my journal and God gently highlighted a verse I had written down about a week ago.  "Let the peace of Christ [the inner calm of one who walks daily with Him] be the controlling factor in your hearts [deciding and settling questions that arise].  To this peace indeed you were called as members in one body [of believers] and be thankful [to God always]."  Colossians 3:15, Amplified version.    I wish I had the words to describe the peace I feel even as I weep.  Jesus is so very with me today.  My home is thick with the presence and glory of God because He IS my peace.  My heart is overflowing with thanksgiving as I think about the amazing gift God gave me in my dad.  I am truly one of the lucky ones. 

Today is an anniversary of a hard day.  And it is a celebration, not a commemoration.  I celebrate my dad being in the very presence of Jesus and harmonizing with the angels as they sing "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God, the Almighty - the one who always was, who is, and who is still to come!" I can just about pick out his voice.  I celebrate that I was blessed with a Godly father, who loved me to Jesus by raising me with tough boundaries, took me to church, and lived out an example of trusting God even when life didn't go as planned.  I celebrate a childhood with a dad who filled my earliest memories with quirky games, a twinkle in the eye, and a chuckle. I celebrate adventures and travel, trips and excursions that revealed God's world to me, that curiosity is a life-long pleasure, and that special moments are always worth creating.

"Sing the wondrous love of Jesus.  Sing his mercy and his grace.  In the mansions bright and blessed, He'll prepare for us a place.  When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be!  When we all see Jesus, we'll sing and shout the victory!"