servant picture

I received a new bible recently, and while reading it I found myself dwelling on Abraham’s servant. This nameless man who was asked by Abraham to find a wife for his son, Isaac. To some, this story might seem unimportant, but to me, it revealed something profound and weighty.

As it begins Abraham is too old to take a 500 mile journey to his homeland, to find a wife for his son. It’s an urgent matter because the fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham is dependent upon Isaac getting married and having children.

God had told Abraham ” I will multiply your descendants like the stars of the heavens and like the sand on the seashore. And your Seed will possess the gates of His enemies. And in your Seed all the nations of the earth will be blessed.”

Abraham is adamant with his servant that Isaac not marry any of the women in the land where they presently reside. So this unnamed, yet loyal servant, takes an oath to find a wife for Isaac, and embarks upon the journey.

At his arrival in the city of Abraham’s relatives, he settles his caravan and prays to God about finding the right woman for Isaac. It is unclear whether or not he knows God for himself. He addresses God as “O Lord, God of my master Abraham”, yet he fully believes God will answer him. Twice the Bible records he “bowed low and worshiped the Lord.”

As he succeeds in finding Isaac’s wife, Rebekah, he again, acknowledges the God of his master by saying, “Praise the Lord, the God of my master Abraham. The Lord has shown unfailing love and faithfulness to my master, for he has led me straight to my master’s relatives.”

Rebekah agrees to come back with him and become Isaac’s wife and the promise of God passes on to Isaac and Rebekah to be fruitful and multiply, so the descendants of Abraham will become like the stars of the heavens and all the nations of the earth will be blessed.

But this servant, this man who stepped in and helped bring about this paramount aspect of God’s promise to Abraham, is never mentioned again. Nowhere is he mentioned or given credit for what he did on Abraham and Isaac’s behalf. Yet, had he not been exceedingly loyal and faithful, the promise given to Abraham could have ended at this point.

He had no notoriety, no fame, no platform, and was not mentioned by his name. The oath he took, the long journey, the success of his mission…none of it was about him. He did none of it for himself. Even his prayers were not about himself…they were for his master, his master’s son and for us — the descendants of Abraham. He acted from a heart of great servanthood.

This unknown servant reminds me of the greatest servant who would journey from heaven to earth, to embrace and fulfill one mission…the saving of mankind.

“I did not come to be served, but to serve…”   Jesus

 

 

Queen of Denmark

“We went to London to see the Queen!”

No, we didn’t!

We went to Denmark to see our friends and found ourselves in Copenhagen on their Queen’s 75th Birthday.

After deciding to attend the Queen’s Parade, our friend, Synnove, smoothly led us through the maze of trains, buses, bikes, and the masses walking toward the Queen’s Palace. Squeezing through the crowd we positioned ourselves close to the street where her horse-drawn carriage would pass.

Standing among the Danish people, we were drawn to the excitement in their voices. Although we couldn’t understand their conversations, their animated voices and faces revealed their anticipation. Almost everyone held a small Danish flag in their hands, awaiting the moment they would wave them for their Queen. Fathers held their children on their shoulders, mothers rocked their babies in their carriages, while teens and young adults stood on tip-toe or raced to the steps of the Cathedral to position themselves for a glimpse of her. People sat on roofs and balconies along the parade route.

Suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of chiming bells. Simultaneously, the roaring cheers of the people began to roll up the street toward us, much like the wave at a U.S. football game. The scene was blanketed with small red and white Danish flags in continual motion. Cell phones took to the air in the hope of capturing a picture of the Queen. The look on people’s faces was one of absolute celebratory joy!

Being only 5-foot-two, my view was limited and I could not see the Queen as her carriage rolled by. Instead I opted for watching the people around me. Noticing their smiles, their cheering voices and the national pride they exhibited I realized, as an American, I had no frame of reference for this degree of love and admiration for a political figure.

In my lifetime I had seen no one in my country stay in a place of leadership from the time they were born until their death. My heart has only experienced loyalty for short seasons and I have known nothing of what was being demonstrated before me. I was completely fascinated with the spirit of these people who had taken the time to come at noon on a work day and demonstrate their honor for this dearly beloved woman.

As I witnessed the beauty of their love and loyalty, a new realization struck me… I actually could relate to this experience! Thoughts about the Kingdom of God and my King Jesus collided with what I was experiencing. These people were demonstrating the nature of the Kingdom of God.

They were thrilled to give her honor.

They set aside time to pay homage to her. (Some had been there for hours just to catch a glimpse of her.)

They lifted their voices in unison to reveal their love for her.

They waved their banners with unashamed abandon.

They stood as a united people honoring royalty together.

They shared stories/testimonies of their love for her. (We met one middle-aged Danish man who presently lives in Germany, but who told us he comes every year to honor the Queen on her birthday!)

Yes, we went to Denmark and saw the Queen, but the response of the Danish people to their Queen, caused our eyes to be drawn to the Kingdom of God and to our wonderful King Jesus, Whose Kingdom will never end! May we always give Him the Honor He is due!

 

 

 

God Took My Debris

February 9, 2015 — Leave a comment

Walls.

In my younger years I lived behind invisible but real walls. Somewhere in my youth I noticed how girls talked about other girls and used any vulnerability against them. As a result I made an inward decision not to open my heart to others because, I believed what I shared, could and would be used against me.

At the age of 18, when my older brother died, and my world as I knew it, came shattering down; I added another layer to my already thick wall. The lie “no one understands what I’m going through”, became the separating point between me and everyone else.

After Don and I were married the walls I had created became glaringly apparent. When I was hurt, I retreated behind my wall of “he doesn’t understand anyway” so why talk about it. But, I married a relentless and loving man, whose consistent, verbal affirmation, helped me remove sections of my wall a little at a time. He continually exemplified God’s unconditional love to me, and consequently I gradually began to move out from behind my self-imposed prison.

I remember clearly, the day God’s Spirit prompted me to verbally affirm Don. It was one aspect of my wall I had not yet stepped beyond. My previous experiences clearly warned against this kind of vulnerability. But God, was asking me to lay down the bricks of self-protection, open my heart, and speak my love and affirmation directly to him. When at last I obeyed and complimented Don, an enormous sense of love and admiration exploded inside. Like the heart of The Grinch, my heart finally expanded and I felt a deeper love than ever before!

Our marriage took on a whole new level of love and respect. Our communication deepened when I began to verbalize to him my admiration for his talents, his loving acts of kindness and service, his faithfulness at his work, his outgoing nature, his strength to stand in the face of trials, and so much more.

Once I stepped beyond my comfort zone, the walls crumbled, as God took the debris and built instead, a firm foundation upon which our marriage stands today.

I Peter 3:2    Amplified Bible

“When they observe the pure and modest way in which you conduct yourselves, together with your reverence (for your husband; you are to feel for him all that reverence includes: to respect, defer to, revere him – to honor, esteem, appreciate, prize, and in the human sense, to adore him, that is, to admire, praise, be devoted to, deeply love, and enjoy your husband.”

pic for my blog

Writing holds the power to be understood and to understand. Together, my son and I discovered the healing power of writing as we worked our way through a season of struggle and misunderstanding. The rest of our story is over on Claire DeBoer’s blog, The Gift of Writing

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As the car came to a stop on the path beside the tiny casket holding our premature baby Luke, I briefly scanned the crowd of people waiting for our arrival. The moment I saw them, tears filled my eyes and my heart felt comforted knowing they came to be with us.

The comfort I felt in seeing them caused me to consider the formation of this deep and meaningful friendship.

In the early years of our marriage, my husband Don, and his best friend Mike, met every Monday morning to pray and plan activities, events and meetings for ministry to the college students in our town. Mike’s wife, Cherie and I were both new mothers in our group of college friends. We were some of the first to have children, and were in the minority of “daring to nurse” our babies instead of bottle feeding them. We desperately needed each other. Something we came to realize later.

While the guys met, we gathered up our new infants and spent the morning together, talking, laughing, nursing our babies and praying for the college students under our care. We never cared if our carpets had been vacuumed or our toilets cleaned. This set-aside time became a life line we both needed and enjoyed.

One of the first times we met, it seemed as if the entire morning flew by. Suddenly we realized our guys would soon be heading home for lunch to their respective homes. We hastily decided to make lunch together.

We scrambled into Cherie’s kitchen where we discovered an almost bare cupboard except for some canned Tomato Soup and the ingredients needed to make Grilled Cheese Sandwiches. I grabbed the sandwich fixings, she pulled out the can opener and we feverishly pulled the meal together.

Happily, we called our men, and told them a “light” lunch was ready for them. They arrived jovial and hungry, but still working on details and ideas for college ministries. We sat down together, prayed a blessing for the meal and enjoyed a lively conversation. After lunch, Cherie and I giggled, knowing the guys never suspected we simply threw it together!

None of us remember exactly when we began to make it our Monday tradition to eat Tomato Soup and Grilled Cheese Sandwiches around our tables, but we do remember the fruit it bore. Our friendship grew and we found our lives intertwined like a grapevine wreath. We babysat for each other, borrowed recipe ingredients, helped clean each others’ homes, trekked into the forest to chop down our Christmas trees together, and brought meals over when one of us was sick or when we each had our second child. All these acts flowed from a place of vulnerability and authenticity with each other.

In today’s vernacular, we would say,

“We did life together”.

It expanded us to move beyond our private, independent living, while knitting our hearts and our every day lives to one another.

A few years later Don & I moved away and our relationship with Mike and Cherie became one of long distance phone calls and trips to visit each other. Our friendship hit some difficulty after we moved, but we worked our way through it and became even better friends.

On that cold March afternoon, as we arrived to lay our baby boy to rest, the sight of Mike and Cherie amongst the small crowd of friends and family, dispelled some of our grief and placed a blanket of peace over our hearts. Embracing them after the service, our tears mingled on each others cheeks. Love flowed between us, as together we sensed the comfort and familiarity of what our “grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup Mondays” had built between us.

 

Do you have friends like this in your life? I’d love to hear your stories.

 

 

 

Soul Writing

October 29, 2014 — 8 Comments

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Do you remember the line in the movie “You’ve Got Mail”, when Meg Ryan is trying to figure out what NY150 means? She leans in toward Tom Hanks and laughingly declares “150 insights into my soul!”

I relate.

Except the insights into my soul came through assignments I completed in a recent online journaling class. As the picture above reveals, I have journaled for years. Inside those journals are the ups and downs of my every day life, the things God has taught me in the midst of those times, and the hard questions I could only admit in writing.

But in all my years of expressing myself in journals, I have never before touched such deep, sensitive places in my heart. Sometimes I laughed as I wrote, yet other times tears dripped onto the pages and smeared the words I had written. I look back on these past few weeks with a sense of contentment.

For I wrote from my soul…from the depths of my being. My heart poured out on the pages and expressed my deep longings, my joys, my wounds, my healing, and ultimately my freedom. It was as if chains dropped off while I wrote and life took on a sweet freshness. Unresolved situations were settled, and my soul found peace. A picture emerged of my core values, my strengths and my purpose. They were things I already knew, yet suddenly they seemed alive in a whole new way.

I especially want to thank Claire DeBoer, for creating and offering the online course “Journaling For Creative Growth”. It has helped me tremendously!

After four wonderful weeks of insightful journaling, I can honestly say, “It is well with my soul.”

 

 

 

 

 

Mom's Ornaments 3

From the time my mom became a grandma, and for many years following, she made each grandchild a handmade Christmas ornament with their name on it. Aour children became adults and established their own homes, the ornaments stayed with us, and each year we hung them on our Christmas tree. My mom has been gone for six years, and whenever I pull them out of the box at Christmas time, I find myself very thankful for the priceless memories she crafted.

This year, our grandchildren helped us decorate our tree. As the first ornament appeared, their parents began to explain how these were special because their grandma had made the ornaments for them. Once the grandchildren understood, they clamored, “Was this made for my daddy?” “Was this one Sissy’s?” I then, looked for Mom’s handwriting on each one, and announced which of their parents was the proud owner, and the year Mom had made it.

After the grandchildren left, I discovered the ornaments were all bunched together, so I distributed them throughout the tree. I gazed at these precious gifts as I cradled each one in my hands. The time and care Mom lavished on each one resonated with a sense of her deep love for each of us.

After each ornament was nestled in their special place, I stood back and observed my handiwork. A transformation had occurred throughout the tree. Barren branches had become beautiful.

My mom’s love could be seen…hanging on branches!

#2 Ornaments

Mom's Ornaments 4