In the Dark

A few weeks ago I dreamed I was in a house surrounded by windows through which I could see a storm swirling all around outside. Oddly enough, I was smiling and felt perfect peace even as I watched the wind toss objects around. Then I left the safe, light-filled haven and went into the storm to seek a friend who was lost and desperate. When I found him, he was in utter darkness. The storm never scared me, but the darkness did because of what it represents for my friend.

After I woke up and pondered the dream, I thought of Psalm 139 in which David says: “even the darkness is light to You.” Several summers before Momma died, God gave me that psalm to cling to. I have returned to it often when I feel confused or  “in the dark” as to God’s will on a matter. The psalm brings me comfort when the storms of life assail me just as they did in the dream.

Despite the darkness of this world, God who is the Light, said that those walking in darkness will behold a great light. (Isaiah 9:2) So my prayer is that all in my life who have not yet embraced that light will do so. In the meantime, I will continue to take comfort in Psalm 139…

7 Where can I go from your Spirit?

    Where can I flee from your presence?

8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

    if I settle on the far side of the sea,

10 even there your hand will guide me,

    your right hand will hold me fast.

11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me

    and the light become night around me,”

12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;

    the night will shine like the day,

    for darkness is as light to you.

Gifts from the Garden

So far this summer I have received tomatoes, cucumbers and blueberries from friends’ gardens and I am grateful for the delicious produce they have provided. But when I think of gardens, I often picture the kind covered in roses, hydrangeas and azaleas like the Mobile Botanical Gardens.  After Mom died, I went there several times and God used the tranquil setting to provide great comfort. 

So I guess in the wake of losing Dad, I shouldn’t have been surprised when gardens popped up as a theme in novels I was reading recently.While I haven’t had the opportunity to visit a garden yet this summer, I have enjoyed the abundant purple, pink, and fuchsia crepe myrtles and the vibrant blue hydrangeas which brighten the streets I travel daily. Last week, I even took an armchair trip via DVD to several gardens in England.

All of this has brought to mind the gardens in the Bible—Eden where the story of mankind starts and the idyllic New Jerusalem with its orchard and river where the story ends. Right in the middle of the story though is the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus poured out His sorrow-filled heart to the Father.  Somehow it comforts me to know that when the Savior needed solace, He too sought out a garden. It was there in a garden Jesus submitted to God’s plan and willingly chose to die for my sins. While God can provide generous treasures in a variety of gardens, there can be no greater gift to come from a garden than Jesus’ sacrifice.

“I come to the garden alone

While the dew is still on the roses

And the voice I hear falling on my ear

The Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,

And He tells me I am His own;

And the joy we share as we tarry there,

None other has ever known.”

--C. Austin Miles

One Fourth = 4 F's

When I was three, my Dad made me a baton so I could stand in front of the tv and conduct the Boston Pops orchestra during their Fourth of July concert. That was how our family always spent the holiday. We didn’t host a backyard BBQ or take a trip to the beach. On occasion, we traveled somewhere in the city to watch live fireworks, but usually we stayed inside with the AC and watched our favorite music and fireworks display from the comfort of the couch. Then when I became a teenager, my best  friend and I cooked for my family—BBQ chicken (in the oven), potatoes and green beans with a “flag cake” as dessert. 

I’ve always love this holiday because like most every American, it represents for me the privilege of living in a free country where I can vote and where I can speak my mind without fear of jailtime. Even more so, though, the Fourth represents the faith which is my inheritance and which, thanks to being born in the USA, I can practice freely. Each Sunday I go to church without fear of government or economic retribution for openly worshipping God. It is a privilege and a freedom many believers do not share.  But despite the chains the world uses to shackle Christians, Christ has given us all true freedom.

He provides freedom from sin, from worry, from fear, and from the eternal consequences of sin. While America is “the land of the free,” the Lord is the Lord of freedom.  So this Fourth I am celebrating the four f’s of my faith, family, friends, and all the freedom the Lord has given me, including the freedom to serve Him. 

“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” John 8:36

Soul Food to Go

“O, Taste and see the Lord is good.”  Psalm 34:8a

Years ago, I loved the song “Soul Food to Go” by the group Manhattan Transfer and I can even still sing the chorus though the rest of the lyrics escape me.  My idea of edible soul food is what I would deem Southern comfort food like mac and cheese, cornbread and mashed potatoes (sans gravy; everybody says there must be some Yankee in me!) But my idea of real soul food is much broader.

While there’s no substitute for the bread of life found in God’s Word, I often feel God feeds my spirit through the beauty of nature. Thanks to some precious friends I recently received both kinds of soul food when I stayed with them at their home in the mountains of north Georgia. This couple has the true gift of hospitality which afforded me time in a remote, peaceful town where all you heard at night were birds and the only lights you saw were from the fireflies flitting around the yard.

Their perch nearly 3,000 feet in the air afforded spectacular views of the Blue Ridge Mountains in all their moods which were affected by the mists, the clouds and the sunlight. The only thing that really drew my attention away from the tree-covered giants were the cardinals, blue jays and hummingbirds flitting to nearby trees and bird feeders.

After more than a year of tremendous challenges and just two months after Daddy’s homegoing, this trip was exactly what I needed to restore my spirit. But then God always knows how to set a table and thankfully, He allows “to-go” boxes so I didn’t have to leave my peace and joy in the mountains. After my trip, He sent me home with a hefty doggy bag filled with His goodness.

A Rainbow of Promises

“My heart leaps up when I behold a rainbow in the sky…” William Wordsworth

Last week I noticed a vibrant rainbow reflected in a dark, turned-off t.v. screen. I couldn’t figure out what source had refracted the light but I didn’t really care as I was transfixed by the radiant spectrum of color. You see, I have always loved rainbows. As a child, whenever I opened a new box of 64 Crayola crayons, I would organize them according to Roy G. Biv (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet). Within each hue, I would create a mini-spectrum of shades so they blended as seamlessly as possible (after all, what do you do with the metallics?)

I can remember seeing a rainbow in my children’s picture Bible where it first makes an appearance in Genesis as an emblem of God’s promise to Noah and mankind that He will never again destroy the earth through a worldwide flood. The only other time I know the Bible refers to a rainbow is in Revelation when John describes the throne of God as being encircled by one. The scene is a beautiful picture that reminds us that all of God’s promises flow from His throne of mercy. 

There have been pivotal times in my life where God has drawn my attention to the sky to focus on one of His rainbows and one of His promises. Like the beautiful spectrum of colors, God’s promises are vibrant, glowing with His light. But unlike the transient rainbow that fades before our eyes, God’s promises are everlasting.

2 Corinthians 1:20: “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ. And so through him the ‘Amen’ is spoken by us to the glory of God.”

1 Kings 8:56b:  "Not one word has failed of all the good promises He gave through His servant Moses."

Desperate for Grace

The pseudo-Spanish word desperado means “desperate” and the English connotation is of a reckless bandit, particularly in the Old West. While very few folks fall into the category of desperadoes, everyone is desperate for something. Some are desperate to find the love of their lives. Others are desperate to get ahead in their jobs. As Christians we should be different and you might think we should be desperate for nothing.

But those who are truly desperate for God—for His presence, not just His blessings—are rewarded with more of Him. When Moses, the man God chose to lead His people out of bondage, cried out, “Show me Your glory,” God answered by revealing more of Himself to Moses. The experience was one few people ever have.  David cried out again and again to enter into God’s presence and God pronounced him a man after His own heart. And Peter when pressed by Jesus to know if he wanted to stop following Him, responded, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (John 6:68)

God does not need our talents, our intellect, or our good intentions. What He needs are people who are so desperate for Him they go to the cross and empty themselves that they might be filled with Christ’s love and grace and mercy.

“You will show me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” Psalm 16:11

He Makes Me Sing

I remember after Momma died wondering how long it would be before I felt like laughing or singing again. I felt the same way two weeks ago when Daddy died. That may seem a strange thought, but both singing and laughing were huge parts of my relationships with my parents.  I remember hearing Momma’s beautiful soprano filling the house with music when I would come in from school in the afternoons.  And I always loved hearing Daddy’s rich bass singing in church every Sunday.

In His infinite goodness, God gave me some things to laugh about fairly quickly after He called Daddy home and much to my surprise, I felt like singing almost immediately.  Of course it is easier to do both knowing my parents are safe and whole with the Lord.  But today as we sang the old hymn “Fairest Lord Jesus,” the line “who makes the woeful heart to sing” leapt off the page at me. I realized what a gift God has given me to be able to sing so soon after Daddy’s death.  Because of His great love and mercy to us, we can sing His praises even when our hearts are broken. And for me, singing brings great healing.

Like the psalmist, I declare:  “I will sing the LORD's praise, for he has been good to me.” (Psalm 13:6)