MURDER, SHE WROTE

Cute little guy, isn’t he? Happy face, bright smile, dainty little feet?  He told me his name is Gerard.  Yeah, he looks cute, but I must confess that I have a great ... unlove ... for buggers, for just about anything remotely resembling crawling-creeping-many-eyed creatures. My husband’s particular un-love is something called “bore-bees” because they bore into deck wood, thus causing said deck to implode like a bad soufflé. And being the manly man that he is (much like Rambo), he’s highly protective of his deck, charging after them with a can of spray in one hand and his tennis racket of death in the other, sending them sailing to smithereens.

I know ... ecology, food chain, global stuff ... sorry, just play with me here. I enjoy griping about bugs, and I enjoy setting them “free.”  Sorry, bug-huggers, I do. If they infiltrate my castle, they’re buggy-toast. I zero in on them with a shoe, or a fireplace shovel, or a rock-hard stale pop tart, if necessary. BAMMO, off to buggy heaven they go, thus rendering my abode creepy-free. (But never fear, Gerard still lives outside, free to hop to his heart's delight.)

There really is a point here, more than just mindless joyful destruction of critters who probably really do have a reason to live … outside my house. As He’s prone to do, the Lord has caused me to consider this:

What if I expended as much energy, creativity, and single-mindedness to sin-murder as I do in bug-murder?

What if I actually walk with the Spirit, live in such a way, that I’m putting to death the deeds of the body (Romans 8:13)?

What if I consider the members of my earthly body as dead to [everything] that amounts to idolatry (Colossians 3:5)?

Just as bugs are seldom as cute as the little guy above, so are my sins not cuddly and adorable. They're nightmarishly hideous and deserve to be thoroughly slaughtered.

My Father, once again, You have graciously lobbed your Word at my heart with the same tenaciousness that I should exhibit towards my own residual creeping sin. And even more, I’m thankful every day that You, my Jesus, were my personal sin-bearer (1 Peter 2:24), reconciling me to my God (Romans 5:10) for eternity.  And the reason for murdering my sin daily, taking up my cross and following You, my Jesus (Matthew 16:24), is to be a fruit-producing, light-bearing ambassador for You, drawing others to You. Just as I want my home to be creepy-bug-free, so should I desire my life for You to be creepy-sin-free.  I praise You, my Father, for Your divine power to live as You would have me do, honoring You (2 Peter 1:3-4).  You truly are a compassionate God.

TIME MARCHES ON

 

I find it very interesting that younger people want to know what they’re gonna look like when they grow old, and then they find an “app” that allegedly foists that horror show upon them. I’m now at the age when I don’t really NEED an app, or any imagination, to see what I’ll look like when old, ’cause that ship has already left the dock. Although it hasn’t reached the high seas yet.

 

You may be aware of a book, then a couple of movies, about a spectacularly gorgeous (fictional) young man named Dorian Gray. His portrait was painted, and Dorian bemoaned the fact that he would grow old and the portrait never would. Through some fluke that only addled authors can beget, the portrait instead grows old and hideous as Dorian lives the hedonistic lifestyle and stays young and purty.

I’ve no clue what the author’s motivations were in writing this, but for me, I instantly think of the many-many-MANY instances in Scripture that speak, not of age progression, but rather of sin progression in people’s lives (Ezra 9:6; Hosea 13:2; Revelation 18:5). Think about that for a moment -- how would YOU like to see a portrait that exhibits, in glorious psychedelic color, every-single-little-and-big-sin you’ve ever committed in your life. That would be an unbearable sight.

 

Now think of this -- this hideous “portrait” is what the Lord God sees when He looks down at every unrepentant sinner. Stew in that for a minute.

 

This is what the Lord Jesus Christ took upon Himself on the Cross, and nailed to the Cross (Colossians 2:14). He washed me from my sins in His own blood (Revelation 1:5). He did this so that, when God looks at me, a repentant, born-again believer, all He sees is His sin-cleansed child. When He looks at me, He sees the purity of His Son, Christ.

 

And it doesn’t stop there! The progression continues, in the form of holiness and sanctification. As I continue through my earthly life, any sins I commit, after confessing them to God, the blood of Jesus continues to cleanse me from all sin (1 John 1:7-9). And the purpose of all this is to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 3:18).

 

Father God, thank You for pointing out that it’s really not about me at all, about how pretty I look. It’s about You being glorified, about me making You look wonderful to others. What a merciful Savior You are, making me clean, keeping me clean, and making me Your child.

 

 

CRASHING AND COASTING

I’ve spent the better part of 4 decades being manhandled by flailing blood sugar, a/k/a, hypoglycemia.  For me, the problem was exacerbated by what I was eating. Example: I would eat half a dozen glazed donuts. The result was soaring blood sugar, then crashing blood sugar. The end result was that I became twitchy, anxious, and so desperate for food that I would gladly shove anybody onto the floor who got between me and the refrigerator ... where the rest of the donuts lived ... and the cookies and cake and ice cream. Not a particularly pleasant, or intelligent, way to live. 

Long story short ... the Lord took matters into His own hands by showing me that THIS MUST STOP, and that I needed to do the dreaded DETOX. That’s right, I of the no-self-control tribe suddenly became able to cleanse myself of sugar, and by golly, I leveled out. I became able to eat real food, then stop. I found no pleasure in the daily crud-food circus anymore. I became able to coast through my days, not crash and twitch. What a miracle!

 

Lesson 1: There’s now an obvious difference between knowing that I’m hungry when my stomach tells me, and then to eat what’s good for me ... versus thinking that I’m hungry every time my blood sugar lies to me and convinces me I’m hungry for more junk.

 

I bet you’re waiting for a convoluted spiritual lesson here, aren’t you? Well, take a deep breath.

 

Lesson 2: If I depend on circumstances and feelings to tell me what I think is “true” ... I’m gonna crash and twitch through my days, and probably shove other people around. If I do not depend on the Solid Rock that is Christ, on the truth that is God’s Word, I will flail around and be totally confused and useless. I’m likely to be “driven and tossed, and unstable” if I don’t get my wisdom from God (James 1:5-8). If, however, I run my life according to what I KNOW is true from God’s Word (Job 19:25; Romans 8:28; 2 Corinthians 4:14; 1 John 5:20), I’m much more likely to “coast” through my days, being fruitful for Him.

 

Abba Father, I am so thankful that You use my everyday circumstances to drive home lessons that I so badly need to learn. I praise You for the wisdom and patience You exhibit towards me while I flail around independent from You, and how You lovingly draw me to Yourself when I need it. Which is almost every minute of every day. You are indeed a merciful Father!

IDENTITY THEFT

 

A few years ago, I had a mild taste of identity theft.  It seems that a doofus little teenager, with no money of his own, used his hacking powers for evil instead of good.  He stole my credit card information to purchase $500 worth of teenage-type music and a Playstation.  Wicked, wicked ignorant boy, who thought he’d never be caught!  Apparently nobody ever taught him that his sin would find him out (Numbers 32:23).  I am very thankful that my credit card company was diligently watchful and determined that these charges were abnormal for me, the unwicked sweet little old lady, who has an entirely different outlook on what constitutes good music.  It took 8 months for the company to annihilate the charges from my card, thus leading me to decide it’s better to bargain only with cash, marbles, and jelly beans.

It has occurred to me that, just as I was miffed to find someone misusing my identity, probably Jesus isn’t all that crazy about people with a “form of godliness” (2 Timothy 3:5), a/k/a “tares” (Matthew 13:24-30), who misuse His name for their own ego and pleasure.  It reminds me that I was also once a "tare."  And it also reminds me that, even now, I must be aware of my own motives, of not using Your name for my benefit instead of Your glory.

Thank You, my Jesus, that You graciously gave Your identity to me, so that I'm no longer an identity-thieving "tare."  I have the privilege of calling myself by Your name.  It's not to make me look good, but instead to be fruitful, making You look BEST to the yet-to-be-saved people that You put into my life.  I'm eternally thankful that You have given me the right to be called a child of God (John 1:12; Galatians 3:26).  How blessed I am to be able to say, hallelujah, what a Savior You are!

TOO MANY CHOICES

In recent years, my shopping for food and basic necessities has become quite simple.  Three stores on my own boulevard supply most of our needs.  I can be in and out in an hour, and that’s it for the whole week.  I have ceased feeling the mega-food temptations from most other stores.  I’m not sure what that says about me.  I choose to reject the notion of laziness and lack of imagination.  I choose to think that I’ve become an expert choosy shopper in siphoning out all the crud and bringing home the good stuff, at a reasonable price, like a Proverbs 31 wife oughtta do.

Speaking of choosing -- in recent weeks, while helping out my folks, I’ve reintroduced myself to a couple of super-stores.  I’ve learned that hundreds of products exist from which to choose any single item.  Want a bottle of shampoo for oily hair?  One can spend 20 minutes going through 10 shelves of shampoos that cater to every hair problem imaginable.  T.V. dinners?  Endless shelves of foody boxes behind fog-ridden doors, all of which are similar, yet different, and good luck finding the ones that have a coupon reduction.  Ice cream?  I do not lie, I get brain freeze just walking in the door and seeing, not just 31 mundane flavors, but probably 231 delectable flavors available, stacked on at least 231 shelves.

As I stand dumbstruck in the aisle, I’ve concluded that having an overabundance of choices may not always be a good thing.

Similar to experiencing brain-freeze trying to choose food, it’s possible that one can get “soul-freeze” trying to choose from amongst the many “gods” available in the world.  I well remember decades ago, trying out all the other tasty “religions” available in this world of mega-choices and wound up making an indigestible smorgasbord for myself.  Only after I was saved did I understand why Joshua warned the Israelites to fear and serve God, to make up their minds once and for all, “choose for yourselves today whom you will serve …” – all the other gods or The God (Joshua 24:15).  Thankfully, I’ve come to realize the “simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ” alone (2 Corinthians 11:3-4), not anybody or anything else.

I’ve also seen that choosing is a really good thing, when it’s God Who is doing it.  As I’ve spent time in the Word, I see that God did much choosing.  He routinely chose individual people out of hordes of other people for His own.  He chose one city that He loved, He chose specific days for specific feasts, etc.  He’s a very choosy God.  Jesus Himself chose The Twelve apostles out of many, many other disciples.  He also warned that, in the future, “many will come in My name” claiming to be Him, and not to go after them (Luke 21:8).  He well understands our tendencies to flail around indecisively and make bad choices.

My Father God, thank You for showing me that, surprisingly, I didn’t really choose You at all.  You loved me before I loved You.  You chose to save me (Ephesians 1:4) from eternity past.  How humbling, that it’s really not about me choosing You after intelligent deliberation.  It’s about You fulfilling Your eternal purpose, and I get to be included in that.  And how very grateful I am that You chose to save old wretched me.

 

'TIS A PUZZLEMENT

I will confess that I do not have the to play with any of the massive assortment of mental improvement brain-training games available today.  My brain just does not operate when filling in the blanks of a crossword puzzle, although my 93-year-old mother is very gifted.  She does the hard ones, in ink.  I also believe that the only purpose of a Rubik’s Cube is that of kitty playtoy.  Or doorstop.  Or spider-killer.  And forget about jigsaw puzzles.  What evil person came up with that?  Well, I guess some intensely intelligent being who enjoys reassembling colorful cardboard shards.  I rather envy that person.  But not that much.

When I look at jigsaw puzzles, what immediately comes to mind is that sometimes my life has a tendency to feel like that newly-opened box of teensy pieces.  Seriously, haven’t you ever felt that nothing made sense and there was no way to put the Humpty-Dumpty puzzle back together again?  And even if your life right now is on a calm and pleasant plateau, well, look at this world!  It appears to be breaking apart, instead of self-assembling into a serene place to live.  And try as we might, when we “fix” things, there always seems to be something else askew.  Our life’s puzzle usually seems to be missing crucial pieces.

Ahhh, but there’s something else missing from this puzzle.  The One who created it in the first place (Genesis 1:1).  It’s crucial to remember that He is definitely NOT like me (Isaiah 55:8,9).  He is suffering no “angst” because of the broken appearance of either my personal life, or the world’s hoo-ha.  Why?  Because He is sovereign, and He is in control.  He’s not wondering which piece goes where.  He’s not frantically looking for that missing piece floating in space somewhere.  He’s not chastising Himself for not being smart enough to figure things out.  He created the “puzzle,” whole, in one piece, and sin broke it apart (Genesis 3).

I praise You, my Father, that You know exactly how the “picture” will come together in Your good time, because it is Your picture.  As a result, I do not have to worry about what’s going to happen, how, or when.  Even as all the high-falutin' people in the world attempt to fix everything, according to their plans, I can relax, knowing that You have it all in Your hands (Psalm 24:1). 

 

GROWTH SPURTS

 Sometimes, growth spurts are a pain.  I’ve been the happy mama to many MANY kitties over my lifetime, most beginning from itsy-baby kittenhood.  They are able to cram their way into small boxes and tight spaces in furniture and cupboards.  But then, they spurt, and their entire bodies hang out with just the head in the space, wondering, “Why can’t I go in there anymore?”

I used to love it when a wee baby kitty would curl up in a tiny wad on my shoulder, its head on my neck.  Eventually, it would get too big for that, so it just curled onto my lap.  But even grown and huge, it still craved the cuddling.

I can identify with the issue of outgrowing things.  As a normal kid, I routinely outgrew my shoes and clothes, the type of books I read advanced from Nancy Drew to ... (well, I never outgrew that), and my desire for toys disintegrated.  And as many kids are prone to do, I grew up to be intensely independent. I didn’t want to hold my mother’s hand while crossing the street.  I had grown “too big” for that.  I rejected parental advice as I proceeded into adulthood, nor did I submit to “cuddling” anymore.

I’ve deduced that, in this particular way, cats are smarter than people.

Then came the day that God saved me.  From then on, I noticed that, in a good way, I outgrew certain old and gross attitudes and actions -- although sometimes very slowly.  I was surprised to find my old self in Scripture --  “… such were some of you” (1 Corinthians 6:9-11).  I was no longer as desirous of independence.  Instead, I preferred “cuddling” with my God, holding His hand as I walk through life with Him.  Why?  Because I came to understand that because He loves me, He comforts me just as He did the early Christians (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).  I know that He guards and protects me from now through eternity (Jude 24,25).

My Abba Father, how gracious You are to allow me, to encourage me, to come to You at any time for “cuddling,” direction, wisdom, and sometimes discipline.  My growth spurts are to come only from Your Word (1 Peter 2:2), never from any sense of self-righteousness.  I’ve outgrown many things in my life, but I will never outgrow You.

 

WHINING TO GOD

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you couldn’t help yourself, you just started whining to God?  I know I have.

“I don’t wanna be in rush hour in a blizzard with only a box of donut crumbs for sustenance!”

“I don’t wanna be standing in the unemployment line!”

“I don’t wanna be in the hospital with a broken leg ’cause I was rollerblading at age 60!”

Okay, that last one isn’t true.  It was just a broken bone in the foot whilst walking the dog and dodging oncoming traffic.

Anyway, as uncomfortable as it is to admit that I can indeed be a whiner, I know many of you will come forward and admit that you are also whiners.  And if you don’t, well, you’re better people than me, Gunga Din.

There is indeed a point here.  When lingering in the Psalms, this incident about the Jews’ captivity really stuck with me.  The captors asked them to sing a song of Zion, and they responded, “How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” (Psalm 137:4).  There it is -- “I don’t wanna be captive in another country!”  Can’t say as I blame them, it sounds really horrible.

However, fast-forward many centuries and compare it with the Paul and Silas when they were captive in Philippian jail (Acts 16:25; Philippians 1:12-14).  What if they had whined to God, “I don’t wanna be in this jail?  Do I have to?”  It’s possible God would have told them, “No, you don’t have to.  You GET to.  You get to have the privilege in your confinement of pointing that guard, those other prisoners, to ME, to salvation.”

Ahh, it’s making sense now.  Paul and Silas were confined in jail, but by their joyful witness, a guard was saved.  Paul understood that, even though he might be in bondage, the word of God never has been, and never will be, imprisoned (2 Timothy 2:9).  Paul’s temporary physical bondage led a person in spiritual bondage to sin to be freed from it.

Thank You, my Father, for showing me that whining accomplishes nothing, but praising and glorifying You accomplishes everything. You’ve given me a firm foundation to know that if You choose to place me in a “foreign-land captivity and/or prison” circumstance in the future, it could very well be a divine appointment to spiritual freedom for someone else.  Thank You for scriptural examples of Your purpose at work in Your children.