Running Blindly

"To open blind eyes, to bring out prisoners from the prison, those who sit in darkness from the prison house." Isaiah 42:7

Every day he sat by the road begging. Blind people were confined to the side of dusty streets, just close enough to grab the attention of daily travelers. "Alms for the poor" was his mantra. Bartimaeus was his name and his very existence relied on the mercy of others. Pity was of no help. Compassion mingled with coins - his only hope of survival.

One particular day the streets were more crowded than normal. Word spread that Jesus was walking right in the path where Bartimaeus crouched for his next hopeful encounter. Money was what he routinely asked for, however, healing was the truest desire of his heart.

As the noise level increased, the blind man shouted, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"

In the hustle and bustle of the crowd, Jesus stops. He commands for the shouter to be brought to Him. Others regarded the blind man as a nuisance. Jesus saw a man in need. At the command of Jesus to come, the man jumps to his feet, running blindly toward the voice of the One who knew his greatest desire. The King of Kings asks the beggar an unfathomable question, "What do you want Me to do for you?" Without missing a beat Bartimaeus begs, not for money, but to be given the gift of sight.

In the twinkling of an eye, his eyes twinkled. And who was the first person he laid eyes on? Jesus. The scales were removed from the beggar's eyes because the scales had been removed from his heart. Bartimaeus had not only heard of Jesus, he believed Him to be the Son of David. Isaiah had prophesied Jesus would be a light to the Gentiles, open eyes that were blind, and release those sitting in darkness. Bartimaeus qualified on all accounts. And Jesus, He said the man's faith made him well.

Have circumstances blinded you? Shout. Jump. Run blindly to your Healer. He sees your greatest need.

Cured

"Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed." Hebrews 12:12-13

 I once worked for a chiropractor. As a newly single mom, I grabbed the job out of sheer desperation. At first, I was skeptical of chiropractic care. My boss, Dr. Ben, schooled me in the foundations of this healing practice. Little by little my disbelief vanished. I observed people gnarled with pain, bent over and grimacing, straighten to their normal height. Eventually my whole family surrendered to what they had once mocked. How can anyone deny the relief which evolves from hurting to healing? We certainly believed.

People, who don’t understand our Lord as Healer, never benefit from the pain He takes and exchanges for the gift of true healing. Surrendering back breaking burdens at His feet, we leave with a straighter posture and position. He is the lifter of our heads and the healer of our hearts.

Can the burdens we carry in our minds and hearts affect our bodies? Doctors report many physical illnesses are the cause of internal stressors. When we hold onto hurt, anger, and un-forgiveness our bodies become prisons of pain. When a breakdown occurs emotionally and physically, we end up heading for either a doctor’s office or a counselor. I heard the fastest growing form of Christianity is Christian counseling. People flock to someone who can help uncover the source of mental or emotional anguish they are experiencing. Surrendering and uncovering past and present turmoil is a prescription for healing. 

I am a proponent of Christian counseling. I am also an advocate of dropping at the feet of the One True Healer, Jesus. Often enough the position of being prostrate at His feet ensures a head held high posture. He lifts the damaged emotions and pain. He restores. He cures. 

Too Late

"Then when Judas, his betrayer, saw that Jesus was condemned, he changed his mind and brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the elders, saying, “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood.” They said, “What is that to us? See to it yourself.” Matthew 27:3-4 ESV

 Judas - one minute an apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, the next His traitor. Why would he do such a thing? Perhaps greed, power, anger. When these emotions were heightened by the surrounding events, Judas took one of the most magnanimous falls in history. From sitting at the table with Jesus to a secret meeting with the chief priests, Judas did the unthinkable. He handed over a life, then later, took his own.
  Judas was impulsive. He spoke out of turn. His words advertised what his heart had been holding in secret. His sin became public display. His shame, grief, and guilt are a reminder what impulsiveness can lead to.
 The prophet Isaiah referred to Jesus as "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." As I read the last days of Jesus' early life, I can see why he was sorrowful. He knew what was in the hearts of his followers, not just the ones who were with Him at the moment. He knew what the hearts of all who would ever follow Him were capable - and would carry out.
 Judas, too, was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. However, his was different than Jesus'. He was undone by his own sin. His regret was too late, or so he thought. Instead of repent, he replayed the course of his actions, and took his own life.
 For the rest of us, it's never too late to repent. We can come to the feet of Jesus, the place Judas left, and confess the sin in our hearts, and the ones we have committed. It's never too late to come.

The Ping

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16 (ESV)

Malaysia Airlines Flight 370 went missing on March 8th. A space ship can land on the moon and come back to earth with no problems, yet we can't find a missing airplane. I've watched with millions of other onlookers in anticipation for the plane to be found. The aircraft and black box are important to the searchers. The bodies of loved ones are important to the families and friends. The nightly news elevates our attention as sounds of "pings" from the carrier's black box have been declared. The news of the pings is encouraging, but until the plane is found, hope is waning, despair and anger waxing. Lives have been lost and man's resources to recover the aircraft have been futile thus far.
As a society we weep for the souls now lost deep beneath the ocean's waters. Did we weep for the lost souls while they were alive and walking the streets of their home towns? Do we concern ourselves over the lost people in our families and circles of influence?
If the plane is found, the bodies may be recovered. Their souls however, left the plane the day it plunged into the ocean's deep. Where each person wound up for eternity was a choice they made before the flight's demise.
Every day we encounter people who've not given much attention to where they will spend eternity. They may be unaware of the consequences of "deciding not to decide" about eternal life. I observe folks and their carefree attitudes of waylaying the decision to settle the issue of an eternal live position.
Those of us who are secure in heaven as our final destination often get smug. We observe the lost and judge. Sometimes we pity. But just how often do we take the bold step to share the life giving hope of Christ? Concerned over being scoffed at, or rejected, trumps witnessing to one whose final destination extends far deeper than the ocean floor. Procrastination eases our consciences until we hear of the planes that go down and the unexpected heart attacks, the car accidents, and so on. Then our spirits are jolted into shock. We can be catalysts for sharing the news of eternal life. Caring enough to share before a person dies has to be paramount. After they've left the earth's surface, all the concern is a dated headline. It is past.
Today, will you join me in listening for the pings of lost souls? Let's be part of the search and recovery of those who are slipping into eternity never choosing heaven as their final destination!    

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.