Hope

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Secret Place

Thursday, June 2nd, 2011

            Have you ever hidden away in a secret place – a quiet, solitary place away from the world and all of its complications?

            As a teenager, when I struggled with problems or relationships, I used to ride my bike out to my secret place and spend hours there.  It was near the Great Swamp National Wildlife Refuge, where (except for the occasional turtle) only the leaves on the trees and the tall grass stirred, blown by the wind.  It was a place where I felt free, a place where I could clear my head and think my private thoughts, a place where I could search my heart and sort out my feelings.

            It was the place where I could find myself again.

            What I liked best about this place was that, though I was undeniably of the world, there in my secret place I could imagine (at least for a little while) that I was not in the world anymore.  There in my secret place I felt apart from everything in the world that had hurt and confused me.

            It wasn’t until a little later in life, when I came to know Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, that all of this turned around.

            No, Jesus hasn’t taken away everything in the world that hurts and confuses me.  In fact, He has called me to be at work here in this world, in all of its complications, loving those who hurt me, seeking His guidance in all of my problems.  He has called me to be at work spreading the Good News of Salvation which comes through Him and which is available to everyone in the world!

            The difference now is that I am no longer of this world.

            That’s because He has freed me from it, from the sin and death that are at the root of all worldly complications.  Now I truly am set apart from the world, set apart for Him – set apart in Him.   

            He calls me to repentance.  He calls me forgiven.   He calls me a child of God.  He calls me holy – set apart!

            He sees me that way.  I only need to look to Jesus to remember who I am, to find myself again.  Now, when life in this world gets complicated, I run to Jesus!  He is my ‘secret place’, the One that I want to tell all the world about – the One that I want so much to tell you about, so that you can be there with Him too.

Detour

Thursday, April 14th, 2011

            Life doesn’t let up just because it’s Lent.  There are still appointments to keep, work to be done, and distractions all around.  Finding time to focus in on The Gospel message is hard.

            It’s always been hard.  It will continue to be, here on earth. 

            I remember one year when this was especially true for my family.  In 2006, at 5 and 7 years of age, my daughters were becoming more conscious of the world outside of our home and church.  The “Easter” bunnies were out in full-force that year at the mall, on school worksheets and in friends’ toy boxes.  It’s only a problem, I think, when it begins to overshadow the real meaning of Easter in kids’ minds and hearts, which is just what began to happen with my daughters.  Their lives were getting busier, and God wasn’t always fitting in.

            To make matters worse, we were traveling that year.  Leaving on Maundy Thursday for Virginia, and returning the Monday after Easter, we would miss church at a time when we really needed to be there.

            I remember praying for my family often that Lent, asking God to help me keep our lives focused on Him.  I also remember overwhelming my daughters with Easter message ‘reminders’, to the point where they began to resent it.  Somehow I had got it in my head that I was the one responsible for making sure they didn’t miss the point.

            My life had become busier too, you see, and somehow, in the midst of it all, I had forgotten how amazing and wonderful our Lord is.

            While in Virginia, we were driving back from a day trip in Richmond when my husband lost his way.  I remember thinking it odd, because he never loses his way.  We ended up taking a very long detour, and passed a Lutheran church.  Noting the service times, we decided to return the next day, Easter Sunday, for worship.

            Something ‘magical’ happened at that service.  Maybe it was the recognition of familiar liturgies and prayers in a different setting that heightened our awareness of them.  The service, the sanctuary and the people were all different and yet somehow familiar too.    But there was something more.  My family and I sat in the pew attentively, as the Pastor spoke about (of all things) the busyness of life and holding on to our faith.

            My older daughter, Sarah, mustered up the courage to come forward for the children’s chat, where the pastor handed each of them a plastic egg to open.  Much to the kids’ surprise, all of the eggs were empty.  This was just like at the tomb on Easter morning, Pastor explained.

            Back at home the next day, after unloading our luggage, Sarah sifted through the clothes, toys, and memorabilia from our trip to find that plastic egg, and with a permanent marker wrote on it, “The Tomb was Empty!”  Praise God, she got it!!  The message I’d tried so hard to get across to her, she got it!

            At that moment I ‘got’ it too.  Jesus Christ is alive, and at work in our lives.   He will continue to be, here on earth.  He will always get His message across.   He will always sift through the busyness of our lives, pull out what is important and bring it to our attention, if we will only come to Him.

            Sometimes, all it takes is a detour.

New Life

Friday, April 8th, 2011

When my mother died in 1984, my husband and my daughters and I had just moved to Norway a month earlier.  It was a very emotional time.  My mom had been my best friend, and for years had lived just blocks from my family and spent a great deal of time with my children.

She was cremated and the memorial service was arranged to take place a couple of weeks following her death in order to give us and a couple hundred others time to arrange their schedules in order to attend.  She was well-loved and well-known, having written a book about the miraculous healing she had received 14 years earlier.  She led services of healing and lectured world-wide on the topic.  She also answered hundreds of letters personally.

Following the memorial service was a reception.  We greeted many people and were warmed by the words of comfort of the fellow mourners.  At one point a well-intentioned woman asked me if it was difficult for my children to accept that their grandmother was cremated.  My daughter, Anneke, was standing next to me and answered the woman very quickly, “She didn’t need that old body.  God gave her a better one in heaven!”  Blessed assurance from a child!

My family has embraced the butterfly as a symbol of the resurrection.  Anneke was 9 years old at the time and drew the butterflies that were used on the cover of my mother’s memorial service folder. (And my younger daughter, Karianne, at the age of 18, drew a butterfly that was used on the cover of my father’s memorial service folder.)

So when you see a butterfly, remember that when you die you will emerge from the cocoon of death into a a new life, with a new and glorified body because Jesus suffered, died and rose again  from the dead …for you and for me!

This the message of Easter.  I know that my Redeemer lives!  Hallelujah!