Deliverance by a Passover

This weekend Pastor Bill preached on the final disaster in the Egypt phase - the glorious passover.  (This is Pastor Ken's version.) His words were brilliant, connecting God's requirement for blood sacrifice then and now while standing under a literal door jamb.  He reminded me that Jesus became the lamb on the door frame. I stand under the frame, the red tree, in the house, covered. I know that my duplicity, desiring, crazy behavior requires His blood. He shed enough for me. I hate it and I couldn't live without it. Not for a minute.

That morning my youngest had told a completely unnecessary lie. She told it without thinking, with the ease used by a ballerina on toe, trained, natural, fluid. It killed me. I was so sad. Sad for her ease, her decision, or the lack of one. Angry that it happened, that it's part of our life.

And there, in church not an hour later, Bill asked, "Does anyone lie? You need this sacrifice. You need Jesus' blood. Without it..." I looked at her. Her hand was up and eyes very wide. She wondered how this happened. We marked the moment without a word.

Later in the car, I asked her when she thought the pastor had written the sermon. She considered and said, "this morning?" We talked about it and agreed it was probably Friday or so. How could he have known? How could God have known that she was going to lie and be in trouble? That she was going to lie to her mom about eggs? It just happened.

And then we knew. God knew this lie would come. This lie that doesn't honor child, mother or God. So, it was brought into the light and addressed by God's Word itself. There is forgiveness and a way out when we choose to sin, and when we sin without thinking, or choosing. And the way, is back through the door, into the house of Christ Jesus' covering.

Where we are saved from eminent death, of our own choice. Death by greed, or desire, or mistake. Inside the house, under the cover, under the tree. The red tree where our LORD provided all He had for our good and His glory.

I'm grateful for the tree, for the blood and even for the lie.

A New Thing

Several times in my life, I've been scared out of my wits. Afraid that I was going to lose something. A job, a boyfriend, a home, a child, my husband. These fears haven't been irrational. There has been good reason to believe something was to be taken, or lost. My fear comes from well-honed radar  finely-tuned out of childhood loss. Too finely tuned sometimes.

So in this process of the journaling class, I'm having a difficulty remembering all about what I love and want and wish and dream. This could very well be a normal part of being a mom, having a job, being a wife. But I do feel that a part of me is hidden. From me. I find that scary. Very scary in fact. I don't really want to be less of me.

But to be more of Him, I am to be less of me.

This morning I spent a little time on Ann's blog and these words sang out to me as she shared this story about a very hearty rose giving testament:

What is dead may be dormant and what is barren may be about to bear and wild things can somehow find a way to bloom.

And she brought me back to the words of God through Isaiah. The words that have brought comfort to me and millions over the centuries:

For I am about to do something new.
See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
I will make a pathway through the wilderness.
I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.

~Isa. 43:19

That's it. He is doing something new. He has lead me to these waters. It is mine to drink. To do the work. To see what He is doing. The loss may be the motivation to be aware. But God is the one who is doing the new thing. With me.

Fear.

THE BETTER YOU BECOME ACQUAINTED WITH GOD, THE LESS TENSIONS YOU FEEL AND THE MORE PEACE YOU POSSESS. - Charles L. Allen

I'm taking an online journaling and class. Within the first couple of days, I was required to face some small fears. Tear a bunch of pictures out of a magazine. Pictures of things I like, places I'd like to be, and the like. I was then to make a collage of them, take a picture and put them up on the class website.
I felt the fear creep in when I started gluing the pictures down. The questions became, "Can I do this? Can I pull the picture back up if I don't like it? What if they don't all fit? What if it doesn't look good? This is an art class after all." And it went on. I was happy with the outcome and was equally happy to put it up on the page. And when I was finished, I wondered, "What was all that?"

Is this really my process? To listen to the somewhat-motivating self-doubt? Is that what pushes me toward a good product? Could I get there more joyfully? There was joy in this process, no doubt, but what is all this fear?
As I worked forward in the class, the assignments have required my attention and have summoned even more fear. I'm a "nose-to-the-grindstone, work-it-out, whistle-in-the-dark type." In some respects, my perspective is to take it on and move through.
But, I'm keenly aware that fear might not be a gift, after all. There should be joy.

This morning I read from the Psalmist:
You have given me greater joy than those who have abundant harvests of grain and wine. I will lie down in peace and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe. -Psalm 4:7-8

Oh yes. The Author of my faith has given me greater joy. His perfect love is promised to cast out fear.

Perhaps I need to do what I'd tell my kiddos or you to do: Invite the LORD into the process. Sit at the art table (which in my case, is the kitchen table) and ask Him to reveal what His gracious Holy Spirit wants to reveal. Allow Him to work through this process with me. Leading and guiding me into the art He has for me to explore and execute.

Oh my, what would I have to fear in that?
I'll report.

Peace to this household.

Better than I could say it, check Adele's thoughts on the matter here.
Her blog is wonderful.
You'll be glad you stopped by.

The LORD delights in our well-being.

Psalm 35:27 (New International Version)

 ²⁷ May those who delight in my vindication
       shout for joy and gladness;
       may they always say, "The LORD be exalted,
       who delights in the well-being of his servant."

He delights in my well-being. And here I am, enjoying an on-line journaling and art class, delighting in the gifts of communication at my fingertips and He is delighting in my joy.


If the LORD God, High and Holy King of the Universe isn't the best at communion, then, I missed something. HE is joy and gladness.