Taking a Practice Swing

He firmly grasps the wooden handle with both hands and stretches the sharpened ax out in front of him, learning its weight before he fulfills his task. With the crowd watching in curiosity and horror, the offender is brought forward and made to kneel down with her bare neck lying exposed on the block.

Then, like a golfer practicing before his putt, he tentatively raises the ax over his head before slowly lowering it until it hovers over his intended target, perhaps even slightly brushing the tiny hairs atop the woman's skin. One practice swing, maybe two. Until suddenly, with arms fully extended, he mightily swings the ax heavenward and then back down in a rapid arc, slicing clean through a life to rest on the wooden block beneath.

Or at least this is the image associated with beheadings in the time of England's Henry VIII.

The ax and the wooden block.

My heart pounds at these scenes. I close my eyes, knowing I would never have been a willing part of the crowd that watched such an execution.

Imagine my surprise this past Wednesday when God showed me a similar image in Scripture.

In Matthew's gospel, John the Baptist is in the desert, the "voice in the wilderness," calling all to repent of their sin and then baptizing the repentant in the Jordan River. Throngs of people came from around the region to see this prophet in camel's hair who subsisted on locusts and honey.

Then along came the Pharisees and Sadducees, two sight-seeing groups who had apparently come out of curiosity more than for the heart-changing message.

When John saw them, he criticized their evil hearts and warned them of God's judgment to come if they remain unrepentant: "Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire" (Matt. 3:7-8, 10).

My heart dropped when I read verse 10: "The ax is already at the root of the trees."

God--holy judge and executioner--isn't just giving an empty warning to these fruitless tree-men. He's taken the ax in hand.

And what's more? What gives me chills?

He isn't just holding the ax.

He's already taken his practice swing, bringing it down to rest on the root of the trees. All that remains is the moment when He says "enough"and arcs the weapon heavenward before it crashes down, exacting His perfect judgment.

It's one thing to think of God's judgment as coming in that ever-vague "one day." It's quite another to see an image of God preparing for that judgment.

As Christians, we must seriously consider our efforts to proclaim Jesus to those lost souls around us.

James says, "Now listen, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.' Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes" (Jas. 4:13-14).

We have only to look at this past week's news to see that it is too late for many of the possibly 100,000 who just lost their lives in the Haiti earthquake.

Alvin, Simon, and Isaiah??

I showed my youngest daughter how to push down the fur tuft on a plastic chipmunk's head so she could hear a greeting her daddy often gives her: "Helllllllooooo Gorgeous!" She smiled and did a little dance before snatching Alvin's red-shirted body from me and toddling to the next room, continuing to push his over-sized head, listen, and smile at the repeated compliment as she went.

A little over one year old and already stricken with vanity...loving to hear how wonderful she is.

For five days, she and my other two children were easy to locate in the house because they relished in having that little piece of molded plastic tell them "Helllllllooooo Gorgeous!" over and over.

But by Friday, the effects of being snatched and dropped too many times had taken its toll. My daughter fussed loudly as she brought a broken Alvin to me. I watched as she pushed his hair over and over in frustration, attempting to make him tell her what she wanted to hear.

Yet, despite her efforts, all Alvin would say was, "Hell, hell, hell."

If God can raise the dead, He can surely use a piece of plastic to speak in my heart the truth about reaping the fruits of vanity and pride, about how they lead towards hell rather than towards a life of humility and true, honest submission to Christ.

Isaiah 64 resounds in my ears: "All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away. No one calls on your name or strives to lay hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us and made us waste away because of our sins. Yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. Do not be angry beyond measure, O LORD; do not remember our sins forever. Oh, look upon us, we pray, for we are all your people" (v. 6-9).

According to this passage, believing God means believing I am unclean without Jesus' saving blood. It means believing nothing I can do is truly worthy of God. It means I am mere clay, not able to adequately shape my life all by myself.

And if my actions don't line up with these beliefs, then I am guilty of unbelief...and I am guilty of vanity.

Webster's defines vanity as: "Inflated pride in oneself." Based on Isaiah 64, I believe this definition creeps up and catches most Christians unawares.

The first way our vanity may show is in that deceitful voice of the heart that belittles its own sinfulness and says falsely, "Sure I'm a sinner, but at least I'm not as sinful as that person." Or perhaps it's a voice of self-congratulation over obeying God's word that says, "You're such a good little Christian! You did your Bible study again today and even found time for more than just sentence prayers!"

But the heart speaks vanity and lies. Jeremiah 17:9 says, "The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" It is vanity to compare my sinfulness to another's sinfulness. We must all remember that our sin--no matter how big or small our heart claims it to be--is enough to separate each of us from God permanently without Jesus' sacrifice.

The second way shades of vanity appear is as we seek to make any decision, however small and insignificant we consider it to be, without God's assistance. Any day where we don't seek God's face is our heart saying, "I don't need God today; I can take care of this 'small stuff' myself."

In a sense, we are trying to be the potter instead of the clay. Without seeking and accepting God's moment by moment guidance, we wobble on the potter's wheel, transforming ourselves into something less than Christ's perfect image.

Man's deceitful heart will repeat "Hello Gorgeous" to you and me at every turn. But life as God intends is only achieved by checking our heart against the truth of God's Word.

No Camping Here

The art of photography is, in a sense, an innate desire within us to stop time--to capture some place, some person, some experience we simply want to remember or, in some cases, don't want to leave behind.

It could be a child's smile, a sunset spent with one's beloved, a wrinkled face full of laughter, or a simple landscape of a lazy summer day. We've all had those experiences that warm our souls, causing our hearts to almost will the minutes to creep slower so we can camp out forever in the moment.

And then there are those treasured moments not found in any photo but stored up in our memories. Perhaps those fond memories that remain alive sans photo are truly the ones our hearts desired to remain in forever.

I have innumerable memories of mountain-top experiences where I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay and soak up the warmth, the love, the feeling of completeness. And as you might guess, I have found most of those experiences in worshiping my Jesus.

An unusually uplifting church worship service. A women's conference where the spirit of fellowship with other believers permeated the room. A quiet moment in personal Bible study where I could feel God's Word speaking directly to my circumstances. An empowering old hymn sung with great emotion to an audience of pine trees.

In those moments, I could feel Jesus speaking directly to me. I could literally feel Him near.

And I didn't want to leave.

The same thing happened to three of Jesus' disciples on a literal mountain. Scripture says, "Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light. Just then there appeared before them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus" (Matt. 17:1-4).

Imagine being one of the chosen three in this intimate time with the Lord. Then imagine not only being in the presence of a flesh-encased Jesus, but being (for the first time) in the fullness of His glory.

I wouldn't want to leave. Neither did Peter: "Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah" (v. 4).

I understand this desire--to just permanently camp out in Jesus' presence without giving another thought to the evil, sin-ridden world that surrounds me. It's so much easier to keep my focus solely on God when I sit and listen as Jesus speaks, when I shut out the world so I can simply fall at His feet like the angels in Isaiah and sing "Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory" (Is. 6:3).

But Jesus didn't say, "Yes Peter; good idea. Let's stay up here forever."

No. After God the Father spoke to them in a cloud, they all descended from the heavenly glory found on the mountain and immediately came face to face with the horrors of hell.

Imagine the disciples' fullness, the kind of electrifying soul-filling excitement only found when one has met with God. Then, the shocking slap-in-the-face contrast of pure evil as they walked into the always-waiting crowd where a man asked Jesus to heal his demon-possessed son.

Jesus didn't say, "Ugh! You're ruining the moment!!"

Instead, he said, "'Bring the boy here to me.' Jesus rebuked the demon, and it came out of the boy, and he was healed from that moment" (v. 17b-18).

This is how Christ means us to live.

He will meet with us. He will reveal Himself to us...but not so we can permanently camp out in His glory. God does not intend for us to hoard His glory all to ourselves.

To do so is definitely tempting. But how else will a lost and dying world learn of Jesus if you and I spend a lifetime sitting complacently atop the mountain basking in Jesus' radiance?

Jesus' plan was to bring His glory down to the lost crowds of people below.

How can we do any different than follow the example set by our Lord and Savior?

A Different Kind of Resolution

If you're like me, you haven't even begun to recover from Christmas, much less realize that Friday is New Year's Eve. And yet, ready or not, 2009 is coming quickly to a close.

With each new year, a guilty twinge creeps into my consciousness, whispering that I'm supposed to make a list of resolutions. It's what you're "supposed" to do to better yourself.

When I was an optimistic young girl, I did make lists--exercise five times a week, read my Bible every day, be kinder to my brother.

But it never failed. Less than one month into a new year, and my clean slate started getting red marks on it. I'd break one resolution, then another. And before I knew it, I just gave up, once again feeling worthless that I couldn't be perfect in one thing for even a measly thirty days.

And yet I think the problem was my resolutions were flawed from the start--I was always the one making up resolutions for myself rather than asking God what He would have me to do and then asking Him to help me obey Him in His strength rather than in my own.

All I really needed to do was look in His Word. Look at His commands.

As 2010 rushes near, my heart isn't really looking for a resolution. Rather, God has been drawing me to Christ's charge for Christians to share the gospel with a lost and dying world.

But I don't think it's my heart alone that should be firmly resolved to get the Word out there, but should be the heart of every Christian as well.

During Jesus' ministry, He told His disciples, "'All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age'" (Matt. 28:18-20).

Later, after Christ's resurrection, He told those same disciples, "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (Acts 1:8).

In these two verses alone, Christ empowers you and me to act...but not so that we can fulfill our petty, individual desires. Instead, He empowers us for a greater purpose--to share the truth of Jesus, to teach God's word, to make Christian disciples.

It's an awesome charge not to be taken lightly, although many Christians do (myself included). It's a heavy command, yes, a command--Jesus says "go" not "go if you are brave enough" or "go if you have the gift of convincing speech" and He says "you will" twice, not "you might."

Christ made this a command because He knows the outcome--heaven or hell. And He knows how many souls are at stake. Consider the statistics. 1.5 billion people have never heard the gospel of Jesus Christ (IMB "Who's Missing").

1.5 billion.

Wikipedia claims Yankee Stadium seats 50,000. So fill Yankee Stadium 30,000 times and that's how many people have never heard about Jesus, not counting the billions more who have heard of Jesus but not accepted Him as their Savior.

If each person who reads this would share Jesus with one each week in 2010. And if that one would share Jesus with another one....

As the famous preacher Charles Spurgeon said, "If sinners will be damned, at least let them leap to hell over our bodies. And if they will perish, let them perish with our arms about their knees, imploring them to stay. If hell must be filled, at least let it be filled in the teeth of our exertions, and let not one go there unwarned and unprayed for."

Where Are You Christmas?

One of my favorite TV specials of the season is A Charlie Brown Christmas. In one scene, Lucy lounges on the end of the Schroeder’s toy piano as he plays one perfectly executed classical tune after another.

Critical as ever, Lucy berates his song repertoire before asking, “Can you play ‘Jingle Bells’?”

As Schroeder begins playing the song in conventional piano style, Lucy cocks an ear to listen only to interrupt moments later: “No, no, I mean ‘Jingle Bells.’ You know, deck them halls and all that stuff?”

Schroeder then plays the same song, this time with the toy piano producing rich sounds of a church organ. True to character, Lucy interrupts again. “No, no. You don’t get it at all. I mean ‘Jingle Bells’ You know, Santa Claus and ho ho ho and mistletoe and presents to pretty girls.”

At this point, Schroeder furrows his pencil eyebrows in irritation as he takes one finger and crudely pecks out the melody on a now plinking, hollow-sounding, toy piano.

Although this is the worst version of the song, Lucy finally recognizes it and shrieks, “That’s it!”

This scene reminds me of so many people I see at Christmas time. Listening, looking, hoping, striving each year to create the perfect Christmas experience; yet, not realizing the true spirit of Christmas is playing loud and clear through the story of the nativity.

And so they stand in long lines and agonize over finding the perfect present for a long list of family and friends. They dress up for smiling Christmas pictures to include in stacks of Christmas cards that must be mailed. They slave hours over a hot stove to bake dozens of cookies and candies for party after party. They endanger their lives to string brightly-colored lights from the rooftops and decorate their houses with trees, tinsel, and holly. Some even travel long distances to visit family.

There is nothing inherently wrong with any of these activities…unless you have bought into the notion that you will find the spirit of Christmas in them.

Sure, most of us have traditions we enjoy keeping. But if we seek to find the meaning of Christmas in traditions, activities, and things, then if something goes wrong, the words “Christmas was ruined because…” might escape your mouth.

When we’re separated from loved ones by death or a snow storm, when we can’t find that perfect gift, when we burn the cookies, when the cat climbs up and destroys the tree---when anything un-perfect happens, the spirit of Christmas lives on…if you’re looking in the right place for it.

The spirit of Christmas is found in the form of a small God-made-flesh child in a lowly manger.

The spirit of Christmas is found in an angel telling a group of frightened shepherds, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:10-11).

The spirit of Christmas is found in the multitude of angels who burst forth in song for those same shepherds: “And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased’” (Luke 2:13-14).

The spirit of Christmas is found in the heart of every believer in Christ. As Christ said, “I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper, that He may be with you forever; that is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it does not see Him or know Him, but you know Him because He abides with you and will be in you” (John 14:16-17)

If you find yourself with the bah-humbugs this Christmas season, if you just can’t seem to get in the “Christmas spirit,” ask yourself what Christmas spirit you’re trying to find—the world’s version? Or the one found in the Christ child?

What's In a Name?

When a business starts up, it takes special care to create a catchy brand name and image that will stick in consumers’ minds. For instance, “Carbonated Pop” just doesn’t have the same ring to it as “Coca Cola.”

The same holds true when naming a child. Some have even argued that a child’s name contributes to his/her level of success as an adult. I understand that—many might be hesitant to entrust their life savings to a Wall Street broker named “Jethro.”

Because of this, for all three of our children, my husband and I labored to pick a baby name that we kept secret until their births. We looked for names that gave homage to the generations who have come before us. Names that weren’t too common in our community but also names that would (hopefully) not result in our children getting picked on too much. And most importantly—we looked at each name’s meaning.

Mary and Joseph didn’t have this problem with choosing a name . The angel told them up front what the baby’s name would be: “and they will call him Immanuel—which means, ‘God with us’” (Matt 1:23).

The meaning of Jesus’ name was important because His very character was inscribed in His name. His name meant that as the second part of the trinity, He had left His heavenly home to physically come to earth and dwell among us in the flesh. He was 100% God. And yet He was also 100% human.

But why is this such a big deal? And for that matter, why did we need God to dwell with us anyway?

First, the fact that a sinless, holy God would see fit to dwell among sinful humanity blows my mind each time I think about it. There are many days when I want to cut myself totally off from the sin I see being so openly and guiltlessly flaunted in our society…and I’m a sinner, myself. But Jesus who was perfect chose to dwell here. That is incomprehensible.

As the disciple John said, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God….And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us” (John 1:1,14).

Secondly, God needed to dwell with us if we were ever going to be reconciled to God. His coming to earth and, ultimately, giving His life on the cross, bridged the gap between man and God the Father, whose relationship had been severed by an endless ocean of sin. Paul writes, “Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation” (2 Corr. 5:18-19).

Isaiah 9:6-7 prophesied His coming much earlier: “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even for ever. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will perform this.”

Mary and Joseph couldn’t have possibly known all that their son’s name would mean for them and for all mankind. But through Scripture, we can understand more of how God is with us even still—the Holy Spirit that resides within us, Jesus who makes intercession for us with the Father...

GOD WITH US

God is with us as our counselor in times where life’s circumstances leave us questioning our next step.

God is with us as Prince of Peace when anxiety, uncertainty, or depression threatens to drown us.

God is wish us as mighty, everlasting king of all creation who will come again soon to reclaim His earthly throne.

This Christmas season, thank God for His son, Jesus.

Immanuel. God’s word made flesh for you, for me.

Knowing Your Limitations

I snuggle closer to the heater, pick up my crochet hook and blue nubby yarn. Chain one, two, three...I stop and look at the instruction page again to check myself. I sigh, knowing what I'm creating won't look like the perfect version pictured here. There will be mistakes. Some stitches will be looser than others. Some stitches, I might skip entirely.

I could give up easily. But, I continue, as always.

This is the story of my life. In college, I studied diligently to achieve a 4.00 GPA in Honors English. First in my graduating class--you'd think that would give me a huge boost in confidence. But, it didn't.

Not beautiful enough to be a model. Not much natural musical talent to be a Mozart. Not a strong enough voice to make me an overnight singing sensation. Not gifted enough with words to write a best seller. Not a powerful enough speaker to draw a following crowd.

No matter my achievements, my heart has always proclaimed the truth that no matter how good I am at anything--there's always going to be someone better, smarter... closer to perfection.

This mentality is good in a way because it helps be combat my human tendency toward pride. But it's also self defeating because it leaves me with a fear of trying something--anything--new, something else I won't be perfect at.

God's word says, "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might" (Ecc.9:10).

I know this is true. The thing my hand strives "to do" is to live for Christ and obey His commands. But maybe you're like me--you strive to be perfect for Christ...only to fail.

Perhaps you're short-tempered with your children or husband. Perhaps you miss opportunities to share Jesus. Perhaps your prayer life isn't all it should be.

When our life's focus is split among so many things--job, children, household chores--it is difficult to keep our eyes on Jesus. So, what are we to do? Do we give up?

Do we just accept that our commitment to Him will always be second best?

The sixth Episcopal Bishop of Massachusetts, Philipps Brooks (1835-1893) discussed this very issue in his book, Visions and Tasks, and Other Sermons. He states that we incorrectly limit what we can achieve:

"There is nothing which comes to seem more foolish to us, I think, as years go by, than the limitations which have been quietly set to the moral possibilities of man. They are placedly and perpetually assumed. 'You must not expect too much of him,' so it is said. 'You must remember that he is only a man, after all'" (330).

Then, he explains why our self-imposed limitations are ridiculous: "Why man's moral range and reach is practically infinite, at least no man has yet begun to comprehend where its limits lies. Man's powers of conquering temptation, of despising danger, of being true to principle, have never been even indicated, save in Christ. 'Only a man!' that means only a Son of God; and who can begin to say what a Son of God, claiming his Father, may become and be and do?" (330).

You and I may not be perfect. We may not be number one. But in Christ, who knows what limitations we may overcome if we abide in Him.

I hope your prayer and my prayer will be this:

"O, do not pray for easy lives. Pray to be stronger men! Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers. Pray for powers equal to your tasks! Then the doing of your work shall be no miracle. But you shall be a miracle. Every day you shall wonder at yourself, at the richness of life which has come in you by the grace of God" (Brooks 330).

We don't know our limitations if we keep striving to work in God's ability and power. Let our lives be a miracle.