June 22 2023

They Sing in The Dark

“My soul still remembers and sinks within me. This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. Through the LORD’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I hope in Him!” The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, To the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should hope and wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.” Lamentations 3:20-26 (NKJ)

Summer has arrived and as is the way of the weather in Atlantic Canada leading up to summer, we often transition through 4 seasons in a day. With summer’s arrival yesterday, came heat and humidity – a lot of it – a sudden change from the wet and cold of the week before.  Being in a transitional stage of life, where temperature regulation is not my strong suit, and with the combination of heat and humidity and unpredictable “tropical moments,” I have started to sleep with the fan on and the window open overnight.

I must say that the fresh air flowing in through the window at night and first thing in the morning has been refreshing.  Even Nico, the cat, enjoys it – spending much of his time sitting with his little nose in the air- “sniffing” the breeze as it enters the room.

Very early this morning, I woke to a beautiful song.  It was very dark in the room as I opened my eyes, looking around for the source of the melody.  I was still sleepy and it took me a few moments to figure out where it was coming from. 

It was the birds in my backyard.

It didn’t make much sense to me – it was still so dark outside- not even a hint that morning was coming or had arrived.

I laid back on my pillow and thought about this.

Jesus whispered softly to me- “They sing because they know what is coming.”

I imagine you stopped by to skim through this blog quickly- but don’t rush too quickly past this word: “They sing because they know what is coming.” Stop here and sit with this for a moment.

Does this speak to you? In what way? What are you hearing, at this moment?

The birds outside my window sing in the morning, in the dark, before a sliver of light can be seen.

They sing because it is morning –

 Although they can’t yet see the light

They sing because they know what is coming.

In Psalm 61:1-4, we hear the Psalmist’s heart. “Hear my cry, O God; attend to my prayer. From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For You have been a shelter for me, a strong tower from the enemy. I will abide in Your tabernacle forever; I will trust in the shelter of Your wings. Selah”

In time of trouble, and overwhelm, a cry flows from the Psalmist’s lips.  To Whom does he cry out?  His spouse, his family, his friends, his Pastor, church family, neighbours, strangers in the grocery store or his counsellor?  Perhaps at some point and at some level.  But this cry, the one that comes when he finds himself at the end of the earth, this cry flows out to God.  Why?  Because the Psalmist knows that there is a Rock, a Rock that is a shelter and a strong tower; a place of peace and comfort and compassion. A place in God’s presence that can not only bear the cry of his heart but can also respond to it.

Perhaps the birds sing in the dark, when there is not even a sliver of light because they know the safety and warmth, the refuge, of that place under the shelter of His (God’s) wings.

Lamentations 3:20-26 reads: “My soul still remembers and sinks within me. This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. Through the LORD’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I hope in Him!” The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, To the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should hope and wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.”

Perhaps the birds sing to usher in the compassions of the Lord that are new every morning, in hope, in the quiet of the yet darkness.

In Jeremiah 29:11, we are reminded: “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”

We often take this verse and think, “Yes, God has a plan, right now, a good plan, right now, everything is wonderful, right now.”

It is important, though, to read things in context.  The verse before, Jeremiah 29:10, gives us that context.

This is what the LORD says: “You will be in Babylon for seventy years. But then I will come and do for you all the good things I have promised, and I will bring you home again.” Jeremiah 29:10 (NIV)

If we put that all together, things look a bit different:

“This is what the LORD says: “You will be in Babylon for seventy years. But then I will come and do for you all the good things I have promised, and I will bring you home again. For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:10, 11 (NIV)

The Lord had good plans for the people, plans for a future and a hope, AND they would remain in captivity in Babylon for seventy years. 

Yes, God had a plan, for right now and for later, a good plan, for right now and for later, AND things were going to be hard, right now, before they were going to get to go home, later.

I often wondered why God told the prophet this.  Maybe to give the people a hope, not just for later, but a hope that would sustain them through the “captivity” of now.

Perhaps the birds sing because even as they sit in the dark, they have hope that the light will come.

Maybe you find yourself in the dark, this day, without a sliver of light showing through the blackness around you. May you be like the birds in my backyard early this morning, singing. 

Cry out to God- He is the Rock that is a shelter and a strong tower; a place of peace and comfort and compassion. He can bear the cry of your heart, and can also respond to it.

May you sing in the dark, when there is not even a sliver of light, because you know the safety and warmth, the refuge, of that place under the shelter of His (God’s) wings.

May you sing in the dark, in hope, in the quiet of the “yet darkness” to usher in the compassions of the Lord that are new every morning.

May you sing even as you sit in the dark because you have hope that the light will come- God has a plan for good and not for disaster – a plan for your future after the captivity– a plan you need to hold onto now; a hope in the midst of your captivity that will get you through to the other side of the darkness.

The birds outside my window sing in the morning, in the dark, before a sliver of light can be seen.

They sing because it is morning –

Although they can’t yet see the light

They sing because they know what is coming.

As I listened to the birds sing this morning- I watched the rays of the sun slowly make their way across the sky and into my room, spreading out across the hardwood floor; a beautiful testimony of what happens when we choose to sing in the dark.

May that be my testimony and your testimony as well.

Until next time!

laurie

April 30 2023

Earthen Vessels and Roots

brown stack clay pot
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
tree roots on rock formation
Photo by Zach Reiner on Unsplash

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed—always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. 2 Corinthians 4:7-10 NKJV

“But blessed are those who trust in the LORD and have made the LORD their hope and confidence. They are like trees planted along a riverbank, with roots that reach deep into the water. Such trees are not bothered by the heat or worried by long months of drought. Their leaves stay green, and they never stop producing fruit. Jeremiah 17:7-8 NLT

In the wooded park, where I like to walk there is a tree, to the right side of the path, that toppled over some time ago.  It is a very large tree and when it fell to the ground, its entire root system pulled up with it.  When you walk by the first thing you see is the “underneath” of the tree – you have to look around it to see what is left of the trunk and branches.  Every time I walk by, I think, wow, that is a big root system. 

Have you ever sat and watched the trees in a wind storm, mild or gale force winds or perhaps even a hurricane?  The fascinating way some twist and bend, sometimes, even to the ground, and spring back up again, while others, break or topple over completely?  When Hurricane Juan hit Atlantic Canada in 2003, we were living in Porters Lake, in Nova Scotia.  The worst part of the wind hit overnight – coming onshore not far from where we lived at the time, passing right over our home and community. It was dark and we could not see what was happening outside but could hear the wind swirling.  It came in waves, starting low and rising in speed and intensity and then slowing down again. Over and over again all night.  The next day as we drove through our area, the aftermath was hard to process.  So many trees, massive trees, upended and uprooted, their large root systems exposed for all to see.

Have you ever experienced a time in life when you felt you were in a figurative wind storm; mild or gale force winds or perhaps even a hurricane? Could you feel the bending and twisting and cracking, in your body, soul, spirit and mind?  Were there times you were completely upended, roots exposed for all to see and other times you sprang back at the moment you thought everything would be lost?

In the last 6 months, my husband and I have been in a wind storm.  It started mild, and then took turns moving between gale and hurricane-force winds.  In the beginning, I remember thinking how important it was going to be to ensure (no matter how busy and chaotic it was going to get) that I was in the Word of God regularly.  I knew that what comes out of me in times of distress is the fruit of the particular seeds I have sown all along.  I knew that the Word of God in me, the scriptures I would sow, would be the fruit that would feed me and those around me in the days to come; the evidence to myself and others of what I carry within me.  I also knew that it WAS going to get busy and chaotic. 

I began to ask the Lord for the scriptures I would need. As He gave them to me- in a variety of ways – I wrote them out on cue cards. There are many wonderful scriptures, but I sought the Lord for the ones I would need most during this time. I carried my cue cards with me everywhere in my purse – they were portable, easy to pull out and left no room for excuses – “I don’t have my Bible”, “I’m too tired to look up Scripture”, “I forgot”, or even, “I don’t want to”.  Because of my focus on a handful of verses, they quickly became rooted deep in the soil of my mind and heart for those nights I sat in the dark in the hospital by my husband’s bed or at home by myself and couldn’t find a light to read by, physically or figurately. They came to mind quickly, without much effort, providing life-giving nutrients to sustain me.

Two of the verses that sustained me are the verses noted at the top of the page.

Today, I spent some time and studied these scriptures a bit further.

But we have this treasure in earthen (ostrakinos- of the earth with the added suggestion of frailty) vessels, that the excellence (hyperbole -exceeding, beyond measure) of the power (force, miraculous power) may be of God (theos) and not of us. We are hard-pressed (thlibō – as in to press grapes, troubled, contracted, crowded) on every side yet not crushed; we are perplexed (aporeō – to be without resources, not knowing where to turn) but not in despair; persecuted (diōkō- pursued) but not forsaken; struck down (kataballō – thrown to the ground prostrate), but not destroyed (apollymi – put away entirely or rendered useless) – always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also  may be manifested (phaneroō-to make manifest or visible or known what has been hidden or unknown) in our body. 2 Corinthians 4:7-10

Ah yes, the frailty – the pressing, lack of resources and certainty, the feelings of being relentlessly pursued and thrown to the ground- the windstorm.

Yet, through it all, the ability to feel the exceeding power of God moving within and without.

This has been my experience. 

Today I wondered aloud about it.  What is it, that allows that exceeding power of God to move within and without this earthen vessel called Laurie, through the pain of being hard-pressed, perplexed, persecuted and struck down; ensuring I am not crushed, in despair, forsaken or destroyed (put away entirely or rendered useless); even amid the wind storm.

“But blessed are those who trust (bāṭaḥ -to confide in anyone, to set one’s hope and confidence in anyone) in the LORD and have made the LORD their hope and confidence (miḇṭāḥ – refuge, hope and confidence). They are like trees planted (šāṯal – planted, transplanted, slip, cutting) along a riverbank, with roots that reach deep (šālaḥ – to send, send away, let go, stretch out) into the water. Such trees are not bothered by the heat or worried by long months of drought (baṣṣōreṯ – restraint or drought). Their leaves stay green (raʿănān – of trees growing and flourishing), and they never stop producing fruit (pᵊrî – the fruit of produce, offspring, or actions). Jeremiah 17:7-8 NLT

When I read this today, I thought back to the tree in the park – toppled over with its very large root system showing – and for the first time I understood – the root system of this tree was large in the sense of width, but not depth. The roots reached many feet on either side to the north, south, east and west of the trunk, but the roots were not planted deep into the soil.  When the windstorm came, the wideness of the root system could not support the weight of the truck and branches and leaves as they twisted and bent in the wind.

In the original, these verses in Jeremiah are worded this way “Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord and whose trust is in the Lord.” 

Who trusts in……and whose trust is.

That is a lot of trust.

A trust which involves taking refuge in and putting one’s confidence in the Lord.  Regardless of the experience of the windstorm; or in this case, the heat and the drought. And these trees are not just any trees, they are transplanted trees (slips or cuttings) that have been placed intentionally along the riverbank, whose roots have been “let go” or freed to stretch out deep.  This allows them to produce fruit (literally and figurately).

It has been my experience that the exceeding power of God works in this frail earthen vessel when I trust in Him and allow myself to be transplanted (from all the other things I am tempted to trust in), and placed along His riverbank. When I not only allow, but encourage, my roots to be freed (from me, from others and the world) to shoot out/stretch deep and far in Him.  When this happens, my root system is deep as well as wide, allowing stability in the windstorms I find myself in. And when my root system is wide, I may bend and twist, even to the ground, but I will bounce back up with breaking.  And that fruit – that fruit that comes out of me in times of distress – it will be the same fruit that comes out in times of abundance – based on the seeds that have been sown – it will be produced in times of heat, in times of drought, in times of wind. 

In this windstorm, the Word of God on those cue cards – they reminded me of the promises of God; of His unfailing love for me; of His faithfulness that is new every morning, sustaining me; of who I belong to and how He cares for me in the wind, the heat and the drought; of how to stand in “my only safe place” and allow Him to carry me amid the worries that surround me.  These Words encouraged me, supported me, increased my faith, reminded me of the faithfulness of God in the past and assured me of His faithfulness now and in the future.  These Words shored up my trust, confidence and hope – allowing my roots to be freed, to stretch out deep so that despite the challenges, the force of the wind, the twisting and the bending, I would remain standing, in Him.

Are you in a windstorm – mild or gale force winds, or perhaps a hurricane?

Do you know that you are an earthen vessel, fragile, that the power of God may work through you?

Have you been transplanted beside His riverbank?

Have you allowed your roots to be “freed” to stretch out and grow deep rather than just wide?

Have you chosen to find refuge, hope and confidence in the Lord?

Will the seeds you sow now provide for good fruit despite the circumstances you find yourself in; providing nutrients to sustain you in the heat, droughts and windstorms of life?

Will your trust and hope and confidence in the Lord allow you to stand despite the pressing, lack of resources and certainty, the feelings of being relentlessly pursued and thrown to the ground – that you and those around you will see the excellence of the power of God at work in and through you?

There are and will be storms in life.  I have been through many and likely will be through many more.

Let me share my heart with you today – this heart that finds itself amid a windstorm that feels more like a whirlwind each day.

It has been and is my experience and my assurance that my trust, hope and confidence in God will allow my root system to run deep. That although the wind and heat and drought come, and I may twist and bend and come close to hitting the ground, as painful as it is, I will not break and be rendered useless. Rather my roots will grow deeper in the Lord.

My trust, hope and confidence remain in the Lord.

It is ONLY “through the Lord’s mercies we are [I am] not consumed, because His compassions fail not.  They are new every morning, great is Your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23

April 7 2023

When Lent Calls You to Give up Your “Cape” Rather than Chocolate and Caffeine.

crocuses
crocuses

This Lent I have eaten far too much chocolate, drank way too much caffeine, and scrolled aimlessly and endlessly through social media while trying to stay awake at this hospital bedside or at home in the night when no one sleeps

I have not fasted with intention (although I have eaten far less than I should have), I have not prayed long and deep prayers (although I have cried out in simple words or with no words to the One I know hears me at all times), I have not worked my way through several books of the Bible or a “special” devotional (although I have several verses written out on cue cards that are worn and wrinkled from my tight grip and dotted and blurred with my tears)

This Lent, I have given up my “cape”.

You know, that one that screams “superwoman” every time you put it on

It hasn’t happened all at once, I have had to work into it – Just like the little nibble you sneak late at night of the chocolate, you said you wouldn’t have for the 40 days of Lent or the two sips of coffee that morning you really needed it, although you gave up caffeine as well.

I have slipped, picked up my cape and wrapped it around my shoulders to get through a particularly difficult moment – or night or an entire day – but then I slipped it back off.

That cape signifies the need for perfection – Jesus doesn’t call us to that – to that perfection – there is no more reward to the one who eats not a bit of chocolate or a sip of caffeine than to the one who works at it and slips and falls and gets up and tries again.

Jesus calls us to relationship and love and obedience- to pick up our cross and follow Him – even if that means – especially if that means- setting it down from time to time and then choosing to pick it up again

I have given up saying I am ok when I am not

I have given up saying “This too shall pass” or “It will all come out in the wash” – because although that is the hope that I hold on to day after day- the words diminish the reality of what I am experiencing in this moment

I have given up saying no to offers of help

I have asked family to send food

I have cried alone, with friends and in the aisle of the supermarket

I have given up tip-toeing around with my words to keep the peace – a peace that doesn’t actually exist when you need to advocate

I have given up suppressing the truth to soften the blow, while carrying the brunt of it all on my own

I have been still in my pj’s when the Nurse or home care came to the house to help with my husband or my friends dropped by

I have left dishes in the sink and skipped the sweeping even though the dust bunnies (or cat hair bunnies) were planning a mutiny

I have eaten chocolate for breakfast and had coffee at midnight

I have ordered food to be delivered when there has been food in the fridge I could have prepared

I have slept on the couch in the middle of the afternoon, rather than doing work that needed to be done

I have told the guys in the booth at the hospital parking lot how wonderful their consistent greetings and smiles have been and told the screeners at the hospital entrance I appreciate them – I have asked the staff how they are doing and told complete strangers in the elevator I like the colour of their hair or their cool shoes.

I have been

Real

Truthful

Vulnerable

Hurt

Exhausted

Unheard

And heard

One year at graduation my students gifted me with a handmade “cape” – my “superwoman cape”.  On the back were two things I used to say to them all the time – “it’s in you” and “you’ve got this”.  It was an inside joke.  When I forgot something during class or didn’t “serve” them to my usual standard and they questioned it, I would laugh and say, “I left my cape at home today.”  On that graduation day they acknowledged my efforts to teach and mentor in excellence and offered back to me the words of encouragement that I had offered to them.

But this year, I set down my “cape”, not this physical one that hangs in a place of honour in my home, but rather the “cape” mindsets and expectations that no longer serve me.

Jesus did not call me to be a superhero.  Self-sufficient and saving the world.  He called me to love the world the way He loves the world so they can see Him in me – the One that does the saving.

Today is Good Friday.  The Disciples went through the darkness of Good Friday and Saturday not knowing the ending.  But we know that no matter how dark this day looks, it may be Friday, but Sunday is coming!

He is risen! He is risen indeed!

And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. 
Matthew 28:5-6