Bypassing the Process

I hate processes. Well, maybe that’s too harsh. I strongly dislike them. For instance, I love capturing memories, and will save pictures, ticket stubs, etc. in hopes of preserving them. But, I hate to scrapbook. Takes too long. I love needlework, having learned to crochet and knit. But, I hate to start a project. Takes too long. I love to eat exotic meals. Hate to cook them. Takes too long. See the pattern?

As I was taking a walk yesterday, I came across a few trees in our neighborhood that had been damaged in recent storms. No, they were not destroyed by the heavy winds that came on the heels of the tornados that devastated towns in Alabama and Missouri. These trees were blown over or broken by gentler winds.

I had always liked them, Bradford pear trees. In the Nashville area, they are among the first to bloom, signaling the arrival of spring. They grow quickly, and are relatively inexpensive, making them a popular landscaping choice. There is no need to wait years for them to mature and bloom, unlike some of the more expensive trees that they resemble. However, their blooms fall early, the flowers smell rancid (the smell has been described as similar to "rotting flesh"), and they are prone to being damaged by winds of mere thunderstorms. They are, in essence, a “cheap fix” for those who want a particular look without having to pay the cost or go through the process. Get where I’m going?

James 1:2-4 says “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

I admit, I have not done well with considering my trials pure joy. I’ve more often than not responded with anger or frustration. I have missed the reality that it is the process that produces the desired result of maturity and completion. It is the testing of my faith that encourages me to press on in anticipation of seeing God move. The joy comes as a result of knowing the trial isn’t in vain. There is joy in knowing that I will be stronger, more mature, more like Christ, on the other side.

It is a challenge to go through the process, to not be like the Bradford pear. We want to grow quickly, painlessly, and effortlessly. We want to bloom early and look mature, but have little desire to press through. However, when minor storms blow through, we cave. Yes, there is fruit, there are flowers, but the petals fall as quickly as they bloomed, and quite honestly the flowers often smell, because they are produced under wrong motives, by our own strength or for our own glory. I’m not sure about you, but somehow, this tree isn’t as appealing to me as it once was. Neither are our shortcuts to God.

Learning to embrace the process,

Kim

Ruined

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him were seraphs…And they were calling to one another: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory…“Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.”…Then one of the seraphs flew to me with a live coal in his hand…with it he touched my mouth and said, “See…your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for.” Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!” Isaiah 6:1-8

It brings me to tears just imagining this scene. God, in all of His glory, took it upon Himself to give a regular, finite human being a glimpse, a mere glimpse, of who He is. And it ruined the man.

That’s the thing. One cannot have a true encounter with the Lord and remain the same. Sure, we can read about Him. Even, hear about Him. But, we cannot experience Him and stay as we were.

Most people will not have the testimony of such a vivid encounter as Isaiah. But, there have been times when we have stood on top of a mountain in awe. Or maybe we have stood at the edge of an ocean, or flown over the earth, or watched trees change or a baby grow, and marveled. Perhaps, He has allowed you to be the only one in your family to have a relationship with Him. And, you simply cannot understand why. Perhaps He saved your life, literally. Maybe He has provided for you in a way that there is no other explanation, but His movement. We have these. And, as a result, we are (or should be) ruined.

The thing is, seeing God for who He is causes us to see who we are: finite, imperfect, inglorious, sinful people. This is the beginning of the revival – being ruined.

Revisit the times when you have seen God and it ruined you. Regardless of where you are now, how you feel about life, at peace or in turmoil, you have these moments. Retrace the steps of your heart and write them down. God is doing some amazing things in us, and the people around us. We are humbled. Awed. And, quite honestly, a bit frightened. But it is good.

Ruined,
Kim

Losing Control

Last Saturday was “one of those days”. Actually, that “day” probably started Tuesday and simply culminated Saturday.

I’m an internal processor, which my nice academic way of saying I think way too much. My mental torment began last Tuesday, as I lamented over the storms blowing through. By Thursday, I was in deep sorrow over the lives lost across the south, and in a panic over the reality that I could not prevent such things from occurring here. I can do my best to protect us if we are faced with such forceful winds, but our safety is in the hands of the Lord. That reality should’ve brought me comfort. It didn’t.

By Saturday, after a night of attempting to console an irritable, teething baby, oversleeping, leaving my home at the time I needed to arrive at my destination 40 minutes away, I’d had it. I lost it…control.

That’s the interesting thing about control. It’s an illusion. I am continually scrambling for it, but it does not truly exist. Psalm 139 reminds me that all the days ordained for me were written in God’s book before one of them came to be. Sure, I have free will. I can influence some things, affect people, manipulate possibly, But I am not in control.

There is a saying “Because God is in control, I don’t have to be”. I wish I could say that this always brings me comfort. It doesn’t. And I wondered why.

And it hit me. When I am resting in Christ, I don’t struggle against Him. Resting means, I fully believe that through Him all things work together for the good of those who love Him. It does not say that everything will be good, but that things work together for the good. When I am resting in Him I realize that He gives me everything I need for life and godliness. Resting in Him means that when I look at the fruit of self-control, I remember that don’t have to do it. It is a fruit of the Spirit, which means HE cultivates it, not me.

I had been living this week in quite the opposite, not in rest, but in fear and anxiety. In fear, I buck against God’s love and view it in terms of getting or not getting my way. In fear, I grasp after things, mistakenly believing they belong to me, not that I am a steward of them and that all things, relationships, etc. are temporal. In anxiety, I panic, trying to come up with solutions, only to discover loopholes, which provoke more anxiety. It’s a vicious, deadly cycle, which only leads to hopelessness and despair.

Last Saturday, after my dear hubby affectionately kicked me out of the house for some time alone, I headed to dinner. As I walked out of the restaurant, this is what was playing over the system. I just smiled and nodded…

"What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear.

What a privilege to carry, everything to God in prayer.

Oh, what peace we often forfeit, oh what needless pains we bear.

All because we do not carry, everything to God in prayer…"

Losing Control,

Kim

The Morning After…

I may be wrong about this, but I suspect that the morning after the actual Resurrection was nothing like we’ve made it.

Yesterday, churches were packed with people in their “Easter best”. Preachers delivered sermons about the cross, the stone being rolled away, and God’s power. We sang with hands lifted high, celebrating the fact the “He Rose” and “He Lives”. Facebook was inundated with statuses proclaiming, “He is Risen” and exhorting people to praise God for His love and salvation and Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. Yesterday was all about Him. And then there is…the morning after.

The morning after, we are rushing to catch the after-Easter sales. Suits and dresses are placed in the back closet until the next Easter. We’re off to work, berating anyone who dares to get in the way of our drive, our project, our lunch, our Starbucks order. Today, it’s all about us. We blast who we want, say what we want, and do what we want without so much of a thought to the God we celebrated yesterday. Yesterday. How quickly we forget? How short is our memory?

Today, I am grateful that God is not like us, like me. I am grateful that He did not choose to place us in the “back closet” until next Easter. Grateful that regardless of what we ignore or fail to acknowledge, the reality is still the same. Today, Christ is still risen. Today, He still lives. Today, God is still all powerful and all knowing. He is still loving, and still holy. Today, He is still worthy of our adoration, worship, praise and our lives. May we live TODAY knowing that this song is still true…

In Christ alone my hope is found

He is my light, my strength, my song

This Cornerstone, this solid ground

Firm through the fiercest drought and storm

What heights of love, what depths of peace

When fears are stilled, when strivings cease

My Comforter, my All in All

Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ alone, who took on flesh

Fullness of God in helpless babe

This gift of love and righteousness

Scorned by the ones He came to save

'Til on that cross as Jesus died

The wrath of God was satisfied

For every sin on Him was laid

Here in the death of Christ I live

There in the ground His body lay

Light of the world by darkness slain

Then bursting forth in glorious Day

Up from the grave He rose again

And as He stands in victory

Sin's curse has lost its grip on me

For I am His and He is mine

Bought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt of life, no fear in death

This is the power of Christ in me

From life's first cry to final breath

Jesus commands my destiny

No power of hell, no scheme of man

Can ever pluck me from His hand

'til He returns or calls me home

Here in the power of Christ I'll stand

-Lyrics by Stuart Towend, Keith Getty

What’s His Name?

Reggie and I have been asked on several occasions why we named our son Enoch. Rather, it’s been, “What’s his name?” or “Where did you get that?”

Let me explain.

When we set about selecting a name for our unborn child, we took the task to heart. He would have to live with this name for the rest of his life. We wanted a unique name, and one that was reflective of what we deemed to be important in our lives.

From the beginning, the girl’s name was easy (I won’t share it in case we have a girl in the future :D). But, agreeing on a boy’s name was a bit more challenging.

Reggie had always liked the name Enoch. In fact, long before we met, he told a few friends in a Bible study that he would one day name his son Enoch. I, on the other hand was not so sure. I knew I wanted a name that meant devoted or dedicated to God (like the girl’s name), but nothing resonated with me. Mind you, I rejected the name Enoch without research. It was simply because I wasn’t “feeling it” because it was “too different”. If I am honest, I was simply concerned about what others would say.

Finally, after wrestling with it, I did what I should have done from the beginning. I prayed. In fact, I prayed from verses I focused on throughout the pregnancy. “God, you are knitting this child together in my womb. All the days ordained for him were written in your book before one of them came to be. You have already named her, and you know the plans for this child’s life. What have YOU named him?”

I’d like to say that I heard this booming voice from above or that an angel from heaven appeared. Not quite. What actually happened is I stopped fighting long enough to look up Enoch in scripture. From that point on, I began to hear the name Enoch everywhere. A friend shared that the person she is most striving to live like is Enoch. I came across the name Enoch looking for another passage. A man in our area who was running for office was named Enoch. I found that the definition of Enoch is “dedicated, trained”. But, what struck me most was his story. This Enoch’s story is found in just three short passages.

When Enoch had lived 65 years, he became the father of Methuselah. After he became the father of Methuselah, Enoch walked faithfully with God 300 years and had other sons and daughters. Altogether, Enoch lived a total of 365 years. Enoch walked faithfully with God; then he was no more, because God took him away. Genesis 5:21-24

By faith Enoch was taken from this life, so that he did not experience death: “He could not be found, because God had taken him away.” For before he was taken, he was commended as one who pleased God. And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him. Hebrews 11:4-6

Enoch, the seventh from Adam, prophesied about them: “See, the Lord is coming with thousands upon thousands of his holy ones to judge everyone, and to convict all of them of all the ungodly acts they have committed in their ungodliness, and of all the defiant words ungodly sinners have spoken against him.” Jude 1:14-16

That’s it. Three times. But, what a testimony! We don’t know how much money he had. Not sure of his occupation. Don’t know of any drama. There are no parted seas or tumbling walls on his resume. The only thing we know is that he lived his life by faith and he took a stand against evil. He. Pleased. God. So much so, that God decided to let him skip death…skip death!!! So, that’s enough for me.

Oh I forgot to mention that he did leave a godly legacy (Luke 3). He is a forefather of Noah, and Abraham and Isaac…Jacob…David…you get the picture. So yes, if Enoch decides to grow up to be like the man he is named after, that is enough me. Definitely enough for me.

Gotta go now…Enoch beckons and I have a generation to raise!

Grateful,

Kim