Tag Archives: God

Clinging

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Craig's Crossing 5-23-14 009To cling or not to cling, that is the question, at least for the purpose of this post.

Clinging is a rather fascinating word because it includes so many adaptations. Consider this photograph of a creeping vine steadily growing up and around this old wooden post…clinging to it like a cat who injects her claws in your flesh after an aerobic jump from chair to shoulder (I know this scenario well). Or, consider how a small child clings to his mom when he is uncomfortable in a particular situation-mom couldn’t pry the child off her with a crow bar. What about clinging to something for safety. Think of grabbing onto a rock wall as the ledge underneath you gives way. There is no chance you will release your grip until you secure firm footing, someone rescues you or you simply can’t hold on any longer. And then there are the endless objects which we cling to for security and the numerous people that we cling to for all manner of reasons. Our clinging isn’t limited to the tangible, but also includes concepts, theories and dreams.

Clinging: it denotes the positive as well as the negative. So, as I considered the vine clinging to the post I thought of things I cling to…or have clung to in the past. Wow, did that thought break open Pandora’s box. BTW, I don’t know Pandora, but she sure does get credited for many things! Perhaps you can relate to some of these examples.

I have clung to habits which seemingly provided security or comfort at the time, but I either outgrew them or became aware of what they really were…crutches. I have clung to other people in the hope that they would make me better or bigger somehow. This type of clinging usually ended up in disappointment. I have clung to ideas which shaped my outlook on life; some helped me grow and some didn’t. I have clung too tightly to a few I have loved which suffocated them and exhausted me. On the flip-side I have clung to values and principles which have positively guided me. And, I have clung to truths which have shaped my response to many of life’s uncertainties and challenges.

Currently, I am clinging to the hope that the future will be brighter, better and more fulfilling. Perhaps such clinging may prove to be counter-productive, but I am hoping that is not the case. I strive to cling to the Old Rugged Cross, especially in times of trials and pain. This clinging is always beneficial, but too often lacks consistency. I am drawn to cling to that which I find familiar, helpful or distracting. Familiar clinging brings a sense of order and security. I would describe helpful clinging as anything which benefits the person without having poor side-effects. Clinging is such an easy way to cope with the difficulties of life. It really doesn’t matter what the distraction is as long as it works. Problem…distractions don’t last very long and must be repeated to keep one’s mind off the thing they want to avoid. So, we tend to cling onto these more and more. This type of clinging can often become destructive to the person and relationships.

Since clinging can be beneficial or harmful (my humble opinion), the outcome depends on what the object is that we cling to and the reason why we choose to cling. This is cause for serious self-evaluation from time-to-time. We don’t want to be too serious too often for that dynamic creates the opposite of clinging…namely fleeing. However, it is wise to pause once and again to consider what it is I am clinging to, and to ask oneself if it is healthy.

One of the most wonderful things to cling to isn’t an object, a relationship or even a concept. It is actually best described as a feeling, although it is also referred to as an expectation. The word which describes this feeling of expectation is hope, and without it we dry up and give up. Without hope, life becomes dull, boring, predictable, worthless, and simply undesirable. To the contrary, when one is full of hope life has purpose (no matter how difficult or tragic), more meaning, more wonder, and certainly more joy than a life void of it. To be without hope is to be filled with a sense of dread and impending doom. Such a tragic way to view and live life. But, alas, many do live this way.

So, here is a toast to living with hope. Hope that a loved one will come home from foreign soil. Hope that a relationship will mend. Hope that a loss won’t be the end of things. Hope that there is a God who really does care and is in control. Hope that He loves you and you find Him. Hope that the sun will rise tomorrow and birds will sing their joyful songs. Hope that babies will grow old. Hope that older adults don’t become children again. Hope that one will always have a friend or two to count on. Hope that nothing can destroy one’s integrity. Hope that children in impoverished nations will be fed, clothed, educated, treated with dignity and allowed to become responsible adults. Hope that wars will cease and hunger end. Hope that cancer will be beaten. Hope that life has more pluses than minus’. And the list goes on and on. There is enough hope to go around for everyone so give hope a try…even if you aren’t up to it. As the Apostle Paul so eloquently expressed in his famous chapter on love (1 Corinthians13), “These three remain: faith, hope and love”. For hope to be bookended by faith and love makes it a very important verb to live by. May we all experience the blessing of hope every day of our lives.

 

 

PROJECTION

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Projection 6-2-14Yesterday morning’s routine was like any other Monday with the exception of this photograph. The difference is simple. Rather than look at the sky and crane and piers, I stopped and shot a photograph of them. Most likely, it won’t win any prize, but I found the image captivating; nature’s beauty with her array of colors and swirls as a background for the projections of steel sprouting up from the earth like trees. God and Man…genius and ingenuity… creator and created. Some see a disparity between the two, but I see unity. Soon, a hotel and convention center will replace the crane. Then, the piers won’t be visible, nor will the rest of the foundation system. However, without these unseen supports this structure could not stand. All of this is rather similar to our existence and God’s foundation of eternal influence and grace; without these man and his civilizations would quickly crumble. As the old saying goes, you can’t always judge a book by its cover, and in this comparison, one can’t experience our reality without the unseen foundation of God’s love for His creation. So, enjoy what we’ve been given even if it is only a glimpse of the sky or the possibility of a vacation in a luxury hotel.

Remarkable

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I would like to share a story with you. It is a story about life, and about a quest for answers. As a disclaimer, I have read more impressive and improbable stories that caused me to shake my head in utter amazement. This story is not so grand as that. However, it is a pleasant story which has several obvious and noteworthy events which could be construed as serendipity.

As you can discern from my blog page description, my mother was a war bride. She was born in Belgrade, Yugoslavia (Serbia’s capital). She had one parent who was Serbian and the other who was Croatian. My grandfather joined the Yugoslav army to fight the Nazi’s and was never heard of again. My grandmother died of a digestive disorder, perhaps cancer, during WWII. My mom had a sister, Milice, who stayed in Belgrade while my mom left home (after the Nazis occupied Belgrade) and wandered about Europe for nearly five years during the war. Her story is amazing in and of itself. Milice eventually married a good man named Tommy in 1963 and they lived in the same apartment for the next thirty-plus years until they both passed away. They did not have children. In 1980 my mom visited her sister and brother-in-law in Belgrade. Below is our photograph of them together. This is relevent to my story. Mom is second from left, next is Tommy, then Milice. The others are friends of the family. As a side-note, my sisters and I visited our aunt and uncle (with our mom) when we were children, but never saw them again. We never knew our maternal grandparents. IMAG0055This story begins in May of 2013 when Cheryl and I vacationed in Croatia. Due to a missed flight connection we ended up being rerouted to another city with a five-hour layover before we arrived at our intended destination, the Split airport (if interested, I wrote about this in my first post about Croatia). It was midnight when we arrived and an hour later when we checked in at Le Meridian Hotel in Podstrana. Due to the late hour and exhaustion, we slept in later than anticipated. We were rather bummed because we wanted to eat a hearty breakfast after traveling for so long. However, our delay turned out to be a blessing. We had a late lunch on the veranda of our hotel which overlooks the Adriatic Sea. There were but a handful of people eating at 2:30 pm so we had a generous amount of time with our waiter, Ivan, from Omis. Ivan was wonderful, and was willing to discuss anything we asked, including politics and the aftermath of the 90s war. He was charming and most helpful, and was a very fine waiter. He is also a martial arts instructor and excels at both of his careers.Croatia 457I mentioned to Ivan that my mom was from Belgrade and that my sister, Tracy, was going to tour much of the former Yugoslavia in early September, and that she was going to Belgrade to learn more about our aunt and uncle. To my surprise, Ivan has family in Belgrade, including a cousin that he offered to assist my sister, her husband and their companions when they arrived. As the date of my sister’s arrival grew closer, Ivan contacted his cousin, Marijan, who in turn interacted directly with Tracy. Upon their arrival in Belgrade at the end of August, Marijan was contacted and he offered to assist Tracy and Dale in locating the apartment building where our aunt and uncle lived for so long a period. DSC_0139He took them to the building, but there was no Tommy or Milice. They died in 1993 and 1997, respectively. With little hope of gaining any new information, they almost left. However, Tracy noticed a woman hanging laundry in the courtyard of the complex and decided to visit with her. When Tracy approached Jelena she told my sister that she normally hangs her laundry on the roof, and didn’t know why she chose to hang it in it the courtyard that day. Tracy, with the help of Marijan, began to question Jelena about our aunt and uncle. She showed her the photograph, and to Tracy’s amazement Jelena knew the people in it. On top of that she identified the girl in the photo as her niece (husband’s side of the family). The woman next to my mom is Jelena’s mother-in-law. Her husband, Dan (not in the 1980 photo) remembered my mom’s visit, as he was about twelve years old at the time. Below is Jelena with Tracy and another photograph with Dan (Jelena’s husband) and Tracy.DSC_0153DSC_0171As this encounter between not-so-old friends continued, a new revelation was revealed by Jelena. Milice’s best friend, and a friend of her family, Selena, is still alive and lives in an upper room of the same apartment complex. In fact, Selena opened her window to hear what was taking place and then came down to greet my sister, her husband and their friends, Mike and Pam. By the way, Mike took all the photos, except for Ivan’s.DSC_0160Selena invited my sister and companions to her apartment for tea and conversation. She shared photographs, stories and details about Tommy and Milice. Below is Tracy, Selena and Pam inside Selena’s apartment which she has lived in for over forty years.DSC_0183 Selena told Marijan which cemetery our aunt and uncle were buried. He then took them to this famous cemetery where politicians, heroes, and dignitaries are interned. It took quite some time to find the location of the burial plot. Tommy and Milice were so poor they didn’t even have a headstone or an inscription on the concrete slab which was placed over their bodies. The cemetery employees were very helpful, as was Marijan who went above and beyond all expectations to assist my sister.DSC_0234There are still many unanswered questions about our mom’s early years and her family, especially because the war disrupted so many lives and eliminated most records. So, to have located the graves of Tommy and Milice is rather spectacular. In fact, I find this whole affair to be remarkable. Please consider these points. What are the odds that Cheryl and I would miss a flight, be rerouted to Dubrovnik, have a five-hour layover, then go back to Split before arriving at the hotel after midnight? This type of thing happens regularly, however, without this delay we wouldn’t have met Ivan who we didn’t see again while at this hotel. What are the odds that Ivan had a cousin in Belgrade who would help my sister? What are the odds that they would encounter Jelena who was hanging her laundry in an unusual place at just the exact time my sister arrived? What are the odds that Dan’s daughter and mom were in the photograph from 1980? And, what are the odds that Selena was home, provided insightful information about our relatives and mom and was able to direct Marijan to the cemetery where our aunt and uncle are buried? There has been a six month period since Tracy had this experience which has given me time to reflect and consider the odds. The odds are pretty good if each instance stands alone. But, that is not the case as they are a combined set of circumstances that fit together to reveal one remarkable story. I simply cannot attribute this experience to chance, coincidence or luck. I believe that the Grand Conductor orchestrated this entire scenario. I believe each appointment was divinely directed by Him. So, the next logical question is why? To be totally honest I don’t know why He would do such a kind thing for my sisters, Valerie and Tracy, and for me. Certainly it is not because we deserved or earned this gift. Instead, I simply accept this to be the truth: a loving God saw fit to bestow a blessing, borne out of love, for some of His children. And for that I am most grateful, and humbled.DSC_0164

New Year Ramblings & Images

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Greetings and Happy New Year….only ten days late! I have been reading numerous short articles from a variety of sources concerning new beginnings, transitions, reflecting, pressing forward, etc. Most have been interesting and thought-provoking. Some are inspirational and some are dull and predictable. Often, they come with wonderful photographs and other forms of art. There are so many creative folk whom have so much they want to say and share. After assimilating what I’ve read and viewed, I am compelled to ask a serious question. Does it really matter? I mean, if I were to write a pithy piece of prose that resonates with countless people, would that translate into something significant? Should it? What if I were to post an awesome, awe-inspiring photograph that took your breath away? Would that be of real benefit to you? My questioning is like the song from the band, Chicago, wherein the lyrics ask, Does anyone really know what time it is…does anyone really care? Rather helter-skelter.

Sometimes all our sharing seems pointless, like we are just screaming out in our own way to be heard; to be noticed. I guess the real question is this: Do we really matter? To quote from the popular song writer/singer, Bob Dylan, when he stated in one of his iconic songs, The answer my friend is blowin in the wind, the answer is blowin in the wind. That may sound rather ambiguous, but so is life sometimes. My conclusion is this: Yes, each of us matters. We matter to the One who created us; we matter to those whom we call family and friends; we matter to our global community; and we matter to our planet (includes our pets) and we should matter to ourselves if all is right with us. And, what we contribute matters, as well. Your life is not a mistake, and your existence is not happenstance. Unfortunately, I don’t have all the answers because we are all on a journey of discovery; as much about ourselves as anything else. To keep in-sync with my out-of-sync musing, I give you several questions to ponder…Why me? Why now? Why not? What next?

So, as I have thought about what to share with you who follow me or come across my posts for the first time (as if I were some sage and important individual) I give you the following. I am significant, but not because of what I do and how I do it. My significance is a direct result of who made me (speaking beyond my mom and dad). What I do with what I have is up to me and may or may not be of benefit to anyone. The truth is I desire to be a blessing to others. I stumble most of the time, but on occasion I accomplish my goal. I believe most of us want to bless others, and do which makes me smile. So, without further ramblings, I present a short series of photographs which don’t have anything to do with one another, other than I found them interesting and wanted to share them. I sincerely hope you like them. Perhaps one of them may make you smile or think or simply enjoy. Any thoughts on the above rambling are appreciated, as well. Samsung 1-1-14 391This photo was recently taken with my cell phone at a boutique gift shop in an urban part of town. I simply couldn’t resist the unique shape and arrangement of plants!Samsung 1-1-14 361Also taken with my cell phone. I couldn’t resist this painting before Christmas. So cool!Samsung 1-1-14 396 - Copy (2)Santa Carson waiting for his cookies and milk! Kinda short, isn’t he?SOHO Condo Bldg. 11-18-12Historic building in downtown Kansas City which formerly housed an Italian restaurant, and was turned into a loft condo building.494A local small lake with snow-covered ice…very serene at the time of this photo which was taken with my Canon DSLR.11-16-13 037I simply couldn’t pass up sharing this image; not so much because of its quality, but because of what it signifies…life giving food. I took this shot in mid-November near our home. We live on the edge of suburbia, but are still surrounded by rural areas. Shot with my Canon DSLR in low light conditions.11-18-13 022 Thanks for joining me. Wishing you the best in 2014. May this year be the best ever for all who view this post. As Tiny Tim said in Scrooge, God bless us, every one.

DESERT HUMILITY

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English: The start of the border fence between...

English: The start of the border fence between the United States and Mexico near Sunland Park, New Mexico, U.S.A. and Rancho Anapra, Chihuahua, Mexico. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Several years ago I was blessed to participate on a work related mission trip in Juarez, Mexico through AMOR Ministries. The goal of AMOR is to provide housing for the poor in cities along the northern Mexican border. Through the efforts of those who donate materials and labor, the love of Christ is conveyed to local Hispanics in a tangible way. AMOR has staff members who raise all of their support themselves, and are a dedicated bunch of folks. Another goal is to introduce Christians and non-Christians alike to missions outreach. Team building is a key component of this dynamic. Each house is built by a team of up to ten people. Sometimes there are fewer workers available. AMOR’s model is to have each house completed in three days from start to finish.

I traveled with a close friend of mine to El Paso, and then to Juarez. Jason introduced me to AMOR and invited me to go serve with him in the desert. My reasons for doing so were manifold: compassionate ministry and assisting the less fortunate have always interested me; I have been on a couple of missions trips before and recognized the value of them; my friend was very persuasive; the need was evident so I felt I could make a difference; my construction management skills could be of added benefit; and most importantly, I felt the Holy Spirit prompting me. I was reluctant to go, however, because I suffer from a chronic back condition which keeps me in pain much of the time. I knew I would be doing a lot of standing and bending which really intensifies the pain. I decided to go anyway. The conditions were a bit primitive as we stayed in tents on a field of dirt within a fenced area, worked in the heat and sun all day, and had cold showers and very basic toilet facilities…not delightful, but doable for three days.

I met many wonderful people including several staff members, strangers who became friends as we worked and worshipped together, and the families we built for. We visited an orphanage while in Juarez and I immediately saw the compassion of those who ran this facility. I became closer to my friend who invited me and I gained a greater appreciation for his heart to serve God by serving others. This trip was a memorable experience and one of great value because of several lessons that I learned.

Prior to leaving our home, I prayed that the Lord would give me a ‘reality check’, as I recognized that I was becoming too influenced by the things of the world. Business was good at the time and I lived in an affluent county where financial success was paraded around me. Although I tried really hard not to get caught up in this dynamic, I was affected by it. My fear was that I was becoming indifferent to the plight of the less fortunate and that I was becoming a bit stingy in my giving and serving. Therefore, I pleaded with God to change my heart and show me again what He valued the most so I could join Him whole-heartedly. My prayer was answered immediately upon our arrival and then throughout the three days.

My friend had an acquaintance that picked us up from the airport and drove us to a home he and his crew had just completed in a Colonia, the name of the small communities which pop up in the desert on the outskirts of border cities. It had just rained a couple of days before (unusual for this area and time of year) and there were puddles of water everywhere. We were invited into the home of the woman for whom the house was built. She spoke no English, and my friend and I very little Spanish. Fortunately, our driving companion was fluent in both languages. As I looked around the new 11’x 22’ two-room house with concrete floor and stucco exterior, I could see the pride in this mother’s eyes. I asked what she thought of her new home and as she explained, she began to cry and raise her arms towards heaven.

Anxiously, I asked our interpreting friend to tell us what she was sharing, and this is what he told us. This dear mother of three children was praising God for giving her a house with doors, windows, concrete floor, and most importantly a roof that didn’t leak. Prior to this house, the family would endure muddy feet due to wet dirt; the roof would leak and there were no windows or door in the wall openings to keep out the rain water. Tears of joy filled her face, and then mine. I was zapped with the realization that God had, indeed, revealed to me in this moment what really mattered. I had just received my first reality check only hours after arriving. I was hoping something like this would take place while I was in Juarez, but didn’t expect it so soon and so powerfully. I selfishly felt God had orchestrated this meeting specifically for me in answer to my prayer. I was humbled.

My second experience of witnessing humility, and the humbling that tags along with seeing humility in action, came when I was teamed with a group of college students from Texas A&M. I learned that every year up to one hundred or more students and dedicated adults head to Juarez during Spring Break to serve. These young adults and sponsors give up their vacations to serve others. It wasn’t merely the serving that struck me, but the spirit in which they served. These young people, full of energy as can be expected, grabbed onto the concept not only of constructing a house, but of nurturing the families whom they served. It was a common sight to see girl and boy alike pickup and play with the children of this community, and interact with the adults. The teamwork philosophy fostered by AMOR Ministries pays dividends, in that a real sense of community is developed, literally overnight. Many of these young people vowed to return in the summer to serve again. I believe many did. In addition, these servants began to learn skills not previously known to them; plus they learned the value of cooperating and being effective builders of community. Again, I was humbled.

The third experience which God placed before me had to do with the interaction I had with a small group of youth and their pastor who came from several states away to be a part of this Spring Break endeavor. Because there were not enough of them, I was asked to assist this group. Although few in number (maybe seven) and with little to no building skills, they jumped in whole- heartedly in constructing their house. The process of construction consists of mixing gravel, sand, cement and water on-site, thus creating the concrete for the slab. The concrete is leveled and finished smooth within forms placed on the dirt. The following day wood stud walls are built and then erected onto the edges of the slab. From this point the roof framing is installed. Plywood walls and roof decking are cut and nailed, and then felt paper applied. The single slope roof receives a waterproof fabric while wire mesh and stucco are applied to the walls. Three windows and one door are installed, and the exterior is painted. Upon completion, each house is dedicated to the owner, in the name of the Lord.

Working along side this church family was wonderful because they all possessed such servant hearts. They invited me and my friend to attend their evening meal and time of worship. We quickly accepted. The meal was simple, but good. The worship was pleasing to the ear and to the heart of God…like incense rising to heaven. At this point we thought we were finished and were ready to head back to our tents and get a well needed night of sleep before we left the next day. The humbling took place before we were dismissed. The most spiritually sensitive girl of this group (I can’t recall her name, but God does) read from the gospels about how Jesus served His disciples. As she read she asked us to allow her to wash our feet just as Christ had done to His disciples in the upper room (John 13:4-9). I was overwhelmed that a sixteen year old ‘kid’ would humble herself and wash my feet. I almost acted like Peter by refusing, but recalled the Lord’s rebuke to him. So, I acquiesced and had my feet washed. As she gently washed our feet (over the desert dirt) and towel dried them, this precious young lady spoke words of encouragement as she prayed over each member of our group. As you can imagine, I was humbled, again.

Jesus told his followers that when we seek the kingdom of God, we will receive that which we need to sustain us (Matthew 6:33). He also told His disciples that when we seek after the things which He holds dear, we shall find them (Matthew 7:7-8).

My seeking led me to discover that which I was looking for, and needed desperately. The greatest gift of this trip, one which has not escaped me to this day, is of humility. I was humbled repeatedly by His overwhelming love and mercy. I witnessed humility played-out through the lives of others: via the ministry of AMOR, in my friend and through the volunteers who sacrificed their time and gave their best to assist the less fortunate. Even the people we served were humble in there acceptance of us, and were appreciative of our contribution. Tears of joy flowed as each house was dedicated during the three days I was in the desert.

I gave, but I received so much more. James states in chapter 4, verse 10 that when you “humble yourselves before the Lord, He will lift you up”. Certainly, I was lifted up. Most definitely, I was humbled. Without a doubt, my faith was buoyed with a renewal in the promises of God. And, I was reminded that, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for Me” (Matthew 25:40). Without question, when we serve others with humility, we serve our Lord, and by serving Him, we become more like Him. I don’t know about you, but I need all the help I can get.

LEAD ME TO THE ROCK

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Rocks Standing The Test of Time & Water

 

As a student of history I find the Second World War fascinating. Tragic, of course, but irresistible to study. I wish it, and all wars, were foreign concepts to us. However, I cannot ignore the reality of this conflict where man was at his best and worst during those times of monumental struggles. While studying the early stages of both the European and Pacific theaters of war, history tells us that the forces of evil overwhelmed their opponents. It took considerable time and effort for balance to be achieved and the proportion of defeats to become victories for the allies.

I pondered the sense and reality of being overwhelmed and what it must have felt like for both sides. What comes to mind when you consider this word, overwhelmed ? It is a very powerful word with many intense thoughts and feelings associated with it.

For the athlete, watching one team dominate another team; one boxer pummel another boxer; or one individual rule her opponent, can evoke a sense of helplessness for the defeated and energy for the winner. Whether the victor or the vanquished, the concept of being overwhelmed is very real for both parties.

For the over-worked, the seemingly endless days of pressure, deadlines and fatigue – the feeling that you will never catch-up – may simply wear you down. The thought of “Not again” and the reality of added responsibilities can lead to stress and disillusionment.

For mothers of young children, the daily routine and pressures associated with caring for her children, managing the household, balancing the budget, the endless trips to stores and events and appointments can certainly lead to exhaustion and feelings of futility.

For the over-extended; be it financial, time-related or with relationships, depression can result.

And for those who have endured years of chronic pain, without the hope for a cure, life can seem pretty pointless. Some suffer from the acute pain of losing a loved one with the hurting as real as any physical pain can be, and lasting just as long or longer. Then there are those who care for others who cannot care for themselves. These are special people, but the responsibility can become unbearable at times.

The sense of being overwhelmed is, well, overwhelming. This feeling may seem relentless – like powerful waves crashing on to a rocky shoreline, wearing away the stone, one resounding crash after another.

Our inherent “fight or flight” reaction to adverse (threatening) situations, especially over prolonged periods of time with little or no hope of relief, often results in our wanting to flee the situation. When trying to stand against the onslaught of a hurricane, escape often seems like the best choice. However, impulsive fleeing can lead to harmful behaviors and drastic consequences. As we struggle to understand what is happening to us, we become confused and lose objectivity.

The sense of being overwhelmed can cause physical, psychological, emotional and spiritual damage. Because of the feelings of confusion and hopelessness, we often attempt to medicate our symptoms. There are a variety of ways to do this; most of which harm not only ourselves, but those closest to us. What are we to do? How can we gain the upper hand and triumph over such adversity without turning to those things which ultimately end up hurting us?

My recommendation, based on personal experience, is to begin the journey towards safety, healing and wholeness by expressing our vulnerability to God. This step is difficult for most of us because it is an admission of weakness and reveals our inability to overcome adversity in our own strength. But this is exactly where God wants us. We must empty ourselves of pride and the false sense of self-sufficiency in order for Him to fill us with His power and His peace.

David, the shepherd boy-turned-king, expressed regularly his vulnerability and fears to the Lord through the Psalms. David, far from perfect, was highly favored by God because of his heart condition. Even after sinning, he returned to his God time and time again in an attitude of submission and humility. David learned to trust his Maker through repeated situations when his life was in jeopardy; as he confessed his inability to overcome his foe, he sought after God’s divine intervention. So must we.

In Psalm 61, David begins, “Hear my cry O God; attend unto my prayer. From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed.” He then asks God to “lead me to the Rock that is higher than I.” David goes on to say, “For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy.” If you can’t relate to walled cities with fortified rock towers then consider a different image which serves the same purpose of protection and safety…an impenetrable place where the enemy can’t reach you.

Whatever your foe is at this present time, confess it, and your powerlessness to overcome it. Tell God the Father, who knows you and your circumstances intimately, that you need Him. Ask Him to help you, protect you, and to be near you. Call out to Him and ask Him to lead you to Christ the Lord. As you affirm Christ as the true Lord of your life, the sense of feeling overwhelmed will begin to dissipate. Sometimes the heaviness leaves immediately, and sometimes it takes awhile, but don’t give up.

Adjustments in lifestyle and circumstances will need to be made to reduce or eliminate the causes of your life feeling out of control, but one must be rescued before one can be free! As balance returns to your life, meditate on the words of David spoken in Psalm 62 when he said, “My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from Him. He alone is my Rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will never be shaken.”

May that become our proclamation and our reality.

S O N G S

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Some people have a song, you know? They are the sweet ones, the talented ones, the sensitive ones. Sometimes, they are even the strong ones. Their songs burst forth as the brilliant rays of a majestic sunrise peaking over the horizon. Their songs are loud and clear and, oh, so wonderful to behold.

I just listened to some songs from a Rich Mullins CD. He had a song, and he shared that song through music. The words he penned, and the melodies he created bring glory to God and cause the listener to take stock in his own life. Of course, there are all types of songs…many of them aren’t music at all. There are songs of encouragement from special people who have overcome seemingly insurmountable odds. I had a friend who lived out his song even though he was a paraplegic. He was an artist and shining star of encouragement. Others have songs that inspire through art, prose, dance and athletics. Martin Luther, and Martin Luther King had beautiful songs; similar names and similar messages, but ‘sung’ at different times and in different ways. Yes, there are many types of songs, and they are all unmistakable when seen or heard. Songs are much more than mere talent, though. The two are not to be confused.

I believe I have a song to share, but I can’t seem to proclaim it. Sometimes, I can crack open the door so my song seeps out. Occasionally, some hear my song, but mostly just I do. And God does. I contemplate what it is that holds me back from flinging the door to my heart wide open so my song will burst forth. I sabotage my efforts by allowing the trivial to replace the important. The temporal overcomes the eternal much too often. Sometimes difficult circumstances consume all of my energy. It is frustrating. I have identified some of the distractions, and am striving to overcome them. No doubt, there are a few I am not even aware of. Perhaps sharing my angst will assist me in opening the door.

Oh, how I want my song to be pure and uninhibited-to be free. I desperately want my song to be a blessing to others. I believe our songs are not about us; not really. We are given these songs to guide and encourage and uplift others, especially those who don’t have a song, but need one. Our songs are gifts from a gracious God who gave us the greatest song ever through the life, death and resurrection of His son, Jesus Christ. Forget religion and consider the man. Jesus came into this world-not because He had to, but because He wanted to…He needed to…for us. While He walked upon the soil of a turbulent Middle East. He taught us how to pray, and how to graciously treat one another. He taught us how to worship a Holy God, and to care for the less fortunate. Jesus did more than teach-He redeemed.

What or whom did Jesus redeem? God’s greatest creation and joy: His children. The need for redemption came as a result of our self-righteousness and pride. We needed to be rescued, and that is exactly what Jesus did. Many find this unbelievable or offensive. I find it remarkable. So amazed am I that He would suffer and die so that I could spend eternity with Him and the Father, simply blows me away. I could never deserve such an honor nor could I ever earn it. It had to be given to me by the only One who had the authority and power to do so.

My song-our songs- are like gifts of gratitude to the One who created us and rescued us from a life of meaninglessness. When I started to write this piece, I had no idea where I was going. I didn’t plan on talking about God or Christ or salvation, but that is where my mind was lead. I feel a bit more at ease after penning these thoughts. Maybe, I just learned a little more about my song. Maybe.

And, maybe I will begin to remove the hinges from the door that I can’t seem to open very wide, and instead, remove it. Why should the door exist, anyway. Who do I want to keep out, and why do I want to stay in? To be honest, I don’t know. However, I seek to find out. What of your song? Will you share it? Will you remove the door (at least start by opening it)? Others near and far need to hear and see and feel your song. I have never been disappointed in another’s song when I knew it was genuine and selflessly given. That is how I want my song to be- an offering of love. The Lord knows, and we all know, that our world could use a heap more of unconditional love. Please join me. I want to hear your songs as much as I want mine to be heard. Enough said.