The Edge

“Glory and honour are in his presence; strength and gladness are in his place.” 1 Chronicles 16:27

Sweat pouring off my face, heart pounding out of my chest – I am on the brink of collapse. Just when I think my body will keel over if I squat and jump one more time, my ears perk up. Words from the blaring music fill the exercise room. I hear something about being on the edge of glory. The instructor informs us we are all on the edge of glory as we pump the weights and tone the bodies. Is this what being “on the edge of glory” is all about?

As I listen further to the words of the song I realize the lyrics depict a night of debauchery and label it as being on the edge of glory. This is the furthest thing from the definition of glory. Curiosity sends me to search the Scriptures to understand what glory truly is. I notice the word is used 402 times. Pretty impressive. Glory originates from God and belongs only to Him. In its purest form it manifests the splendor and majesty of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

As I comb the verses using the word glory, I discover we frail human beings have the capability, and command, to give God glory. If it originates and permeates the very essence of the Almighty, how do we give glory back to Him? 

First I must draw near to Him and believe He is who He says He is. This is faith, and part of the giving glory journey. As my Abba Father, He bestows gifts on me. Around me. Even in and through me, He displays His glory. There’s a hitch here. I can’t keep any of the glory for myself. There’s no 10% commission for me on what belongs solely to the originator. Credit belongs where credit is due. As I behold Him, take Him in through His Word and worship, I am able to reflect Him. The Word assures me some people will observe my good works and glorify the Father who enabled me to do them (Mt.5:16). This is ascribing what is due to whom it belongs.

I want to live this life cycle of glory: from Him, for Him, to Him. To God be the glory…..

LET IT GO

"Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice." Ephesians 4:31

  

The sermon grabbed me. I wanted to cover my ears as the preacher warned about the consequences of clutching onto anger. A hardened heart had served me well for quite some time. As a warm cloak on a chilly evening, un-forgiveness insulated my heart from the calculated cruelty of my enemy. To remain safe, I wrapped myself in the wrong kind of protection. The façade was evident to those who knew me best. My interior was crumbling and my exterior was catching up.

My ears perked up as a story was told about a father and son who held onto a grudge long after its expiration date. (A grudge not released ensnares its victims.) So the father decided the time had come to lay aside all differences and hurts. He took out an ad in the local newspaper which read, “Pablo, I forgive you. Meet me at the town square this Sunday. Love, Papa.” Much to Papa’s surprise, hundreds of Pablo’s flooded the square that day. 

Hurt people flood the streets of every town in every country across the globe. A false theology soothes our consciences. “Build a wall so high, no one can crawl over to hurt you ever again.” Brick upon brick, sealed with the mortar of hurt and anger, the wall becomes a tower. This faulty religion is problematic. The person inside the wall holds himself hostage to his bitterness. Those outside the wall are suspect as potential threats. Loneliness is a strange bedfellow. Nights are long and the darkness perpetuates. The sun never really shines over this tower of protection.

Mentally I envision myself as Papa. I demolish the walls of the tower. I await the noon hour to see if my Pablo will come. I carry no grudges with me. A heart of forgiveness serves me well as I await my son, my only son. Will he release himself from his tower?

I wait…..

THE SHADOW

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4

My morning started out rough. I woke up with dread in my heart and mind. I feared the worst. I once learned the acrostic for fear - false evidence appearing real. Nothing felt false in my gut. Real was what I was experiencing in the moment. I'd headed myself through the valley of the shadow of death. The death certificate hadn't been written. No obituary post in the paper. Yet I counted my desire as a loss. There was a lump the size of a grapefruit in my throat. I could barely speak without erupting into tears. So I fell to my knees in prayer. As I lifted up my "shadow of death" to God, He reminded me it was only a shadow - not the actual death.
An object blocking a source of light will cast a shadow. My object of fear was blocking the light of truth, creating a shadow of lies and doubts. My eyes were on the shadow, not the truth. I recently watched a video of a toddler running from its shadow, screaming in hysterics. The poor child thought the dark figure was chasing her to do harm. I was behaving as silly as the toddler, running through this valley of death's shadow, believing it to be real. The hysteria in my mind, if not surrendered for truth, would render me lifeless.
I had a choice to make - thoughts of life verses thoughts of death. I chose life.  I don't have to run through the valley. I can walk. Shadows can't kill you. They aren't the actual death. My trust is in the source of Light. I am comforted.

I 40 West

The voice activated map system set on my phone was all set to direct me home. I was panting to listen to a praise and worship cd I’d received as a gift just moments before my pilgrimage began. Then, an odd thing happened. The phone map steered me to turn on I 40 West. “What? No I don’t want to go that way. I’ll never get home going in that direction.” I stopped and pulled up the map. Yes, this route would be the best way. I wanted to fight the voice directing commands but I surrendered.

There was a problem with me, not the map system. Because of a family struggle I was not welcome in the direction of I 40 West. The voice kept shouting the town where I needed to turn left, the very place which had become my “forbidden city.” Just the mention of the place made me weep. Then the revelation started unfolding. The words on the cd were blaring. “Be still. I will carry you. I will mount you up on wings of eagles, and bring you joy. Rest in My love.” Were these just words on a cd? No. God strategically planted the lyrics for that moment in time. I was heaving crying. In the depths of my soul I wanted to go I 40 West. I grieved because there was an imaginary sign flashing, “No Trespassing” in the direction I was being mapped to travel. Would life always hold this neon sign before me? Would I forever be kept from people I truly loved? The answers to these questions still remain a mystery. Yet the solution to my dilemma was wrapped up in the lyrics – words straight from Scripture.

God knows my plight. He’s familiar with the grief and longing in my heart to be close to those I love with every fiber of my being. I would lay down my life for them. However, right now they are out of my reach. My Deliverer whispers the words from the stereo sound. His Truth makes its way from my ears to the depths of my soul, my spirit.

My journey home routed me in the right direction, back into the arms of resting in my Beloved. I am still. Carried on the wings of an unseen eagle. I am home.   

“Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10

Mrs. Job

Job 2:9 "Then his wife said to him, 'Do you still hold fast your integrity? Curse God and die.'”

We don't know her name. I'm referring to the wife of of the infamous suffer, Job. Even unchurched folk have heard of this Biblical character. People joke about experiencing a Job-like dilemma. Very few have ever come close to what Job endured. In a brief span of time he lost his children, livelihood, property, and perfect health. The only slice left of his earthly pie was a wife who suggested he curse God and die.
Job's first response to the priority mail his servants delivered - anguish and worship. He acknowledged God's power to give gifts AND to take them away. He blessed God's name. His mind was made up on the goodness of God, not the unfairness. Did Job waffle a bit as his story progressed? Yes. However, I want to camp out at his first response.
The most cherished possessions of Job were yanked from his open hands in a flash. He proclaimed God's prerogative to give and take away because he was living a surrendered life. His wife's response was to curse. Her clinched fist living made losing all she held onto as unbearable. I can identify with this nameless woman. I can put my name where hers belongs. I've not cursed God with words, but have insinuated His unfairness when he withdrew the valuables clutched in my tight-fisted palms. I've held pity parties and invited all my friends to attend. I've rejected the hideous wrapping paper of a gift enclosed with significant value. I chose to gaze only at the exterior, never imagining God had stored a priceless gift inside. Only later did I realize God's gift of suffering was purposed for my intimacy with Him, to reflect His glory in the way I opened my gift. Yes, suffering can be a gift.
My palms are open, ready to receive whatever is next.

Whiter than Snow

Psalm 51:7 "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow."

In an hour and a half my world has turned white. Ice has blanketed the earth. No one going out, none coming in. Nature has posted a "Do not disturb" sign on my front door. God whispers to me, "Be still and know." Know what God? What are you trying to say to me? Had my quiet time - check. Prayed - check. Memory verse done - check.
Then the whisper's volume increases. He reveals my "ducks in a row" morning has produced a fine looking chart but left a heart feeling void. Duty has trumped humility. Pride drips off my off my spiritual check list. I am forced to back track. Where did I go wrong?
Obedience to do the right things got entangled with a wrong motive. The child within screams for God to notice I cleaned my room. Yet God takes me to my closet. There He uncovers what I tossed in to  hide. All my dirty laundry (no longer on the floor of my room) has been discovered. My anger is in a wad in one corner; my self pity takes up space in another. He bids me to pick up all the soiled pieces and place them in His hands. He tosses them into the sea of forgiveness. He reminds me to not only be still, but to know He is God. He sees and uncovers, then covers me with grace. I experience white. White outside, white inside. He is God.

Sleeve Speaking

I wear my heart on my sleeves. I always have. My mom said when  I was a small child I would walk into a room and she knew I had done something. She said my face was a reflector of everything I did or felt. My family has accused me of talking with my eyes and facial contortions. I have tried to restrict muscle movements my body wants to make but somehow that makes me even more of a spectacle.

Today I read in Genesis how Cain's feelings were evidenced on his face. After the brothers brought offerings to the Lord, Cain's was deemed unacceptable. Cain became angry and the Bible tells us his countenance fell. The Lord inquired of the fallen face and angry disposition. He reminded the young man sin was crouching at his door, desiring to rule over him. God knew the anger on the face spilled over from anger in the heart. He knew the depth of the fury was not a temporary feeling but a deep root that needed to be pulled up and cast out. Cain's Creator warned him of feelings that could destroy him if he would not surrender them.

Feelings are not unhealthy in themselves. What we do with the feelings and how we act on them can be sinful. In Cain's case, the feeling of anger overtook him. Murder sprung from the root of bitterness in his heart. How often does an emotion take over the mind and heart and will. Words are spilled -  overflowing from a bucket of bitter poison. Cynical snorts and eyebrow liftings let the "cat out of the bag" so to speak. Everyone knows what is ticking in the heart chambers. 

Cain was unable to keep his hurt and anger a secret because God knew the secrets of his heart. He knows mine - and yours too. Today I choose to pour everything out before Him in surrender. I want my sleeves to speak honor before God and others.