Ann Voskamp's Blog, page 198

Links for 2015-08-04 [del.icio.us]

5th Video released in regards to Planned Parenthood

"‘It was a twin’: A discussion of the just released 5th video of the dissection of 20-week baby for body parts at Planned Parenthood" ... How can we support women so they have other options? How can we be pro-life and anti-poverty? A must read & ongoing discussion

the secret to organizing your priorities & perspective when things aren’t what you’d hope

my preface included in the release of the new book, Things Unseen

I heard once of man who split black ash and wove baskets.

And he wove prayer through every basket.   

The man wore faded plaid and old denim and lived alone high up in the Appalachians where the dirt didn’t grow crops, but it could grow basket trees.

He lived such a distance up in the hills that he really didn’t expect the cost of transportation to some Saturday morning market would leave much profit from selling his baskets.

Nevertheless, each day he cut trees and sawed them into logs and then pounded the logs with a mallet, to free all the splint ribbons from those trees. Splint slapped the floor.

And the basket-making man, he simply worked unhurried and unseen by the world, his eyes and heart fixed on things unseen.

“When the heart is at rest in Jesus — unseen, unheard by the world — the Spirit comes, and softly fills the believing soul, quickening all, renewing all within,” writes Robert Murray McCheyne.

Day after day, the man cut ash, pulled splint, stacked baskets.

He said that as he held the damp splint and he braided — under and over, under and over — that God was simply teaching him to weave prayers into every basket, to fill the empty baskets, all the emptiness, with eternal, unseen things.

It was as if, under all the branches of those basket growing trees, he knew what that clergyman James Aughey wrote, “As a weak limb grows stronger by exercise, so will your faith be strengthened by the very efforts you make in stretching it out toward things unseen.”

Come the end of the year, after long months of bending over baskets, bending in prayer, when his stacks of baskets threatened to topple over, the man kneeled down under those trees that grew baskets — and lit those baskets with a match.

The flames devoured and rose higher and cackled long into the night.

Then, come morning, when the heat died away, satiated, the basket-making man stood long in the quiet.

He watched how the wind blew away the ashes of all his work.

To the naked eye, it would appear that the man had nothing to show for the work. All the product of his hands was made papery ash — but his prayers had survived fire.

The prayers we weave into the matching of the socks, the working of our hands, the toiling of the hours, they survive fire. It’s the things unseen that survive fire. Love. Relationship. Worship. Prayer. Communion. All Things Unseen — and centered in Christ

It doesn’t matter so much what we leave unaccomplished — but that our priority was things unseen.

Again, today, that’s always the call: Slay the idol of the seen. Slay the idol of focusing on only what can be seen, lauded, noticed.

Today, a thousand times again today, I will preach His truth to this soul prone to wander, that wants nothing more than the gracious smile of our Father: “Unseen. Things Unseen. Invest in Things Unseen. The Unexpected Priority is always Things Unseen.”

“Pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret . . .” (Matthew 6:6)

“The things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:18)

It’s the things unseen that are the most important things.

Though the seen product of the baskets may have gone up in a flame of smoke, it was the unseen prayers that rose up like incense that had changed the man, much like Oswald Chambers says, “It is the unseen and the spiritual in people, that determines the outward and the actual.”

When the heart and mind focus on things unseen —  that’s when there’s a visible change in us.

The outward and the visible only become like Christ to the extent we focus on the unseen and invisible Person of Christ.

“In truth, the ideas and images in men’s minds are the invisible powers that constantly govern them,” writes Jonathan Edwards.

The stories in our friend, Jon Bloom’s, new book Things Not Seen are a rare and unforgettable focusing. After meeting Bloom, founder of Desiring God, you walk away quietly saying, “He is so much like Jesus.”

And when you walk away from these pages — that is exactly what will happen: you will have become so much like Jesus.

The ideas and images and truths that Bloom memorably guides into the recesses of the mind and heart usher in the invisible power of Christ to govern the worries and lies and anxieties and stresses — and make them obedient to His sovereign will and relentless love and perfect ways.

Bloom is the wisest of guides, the most tender of pastors, the most honest of truth-tellers, and the most skillful of theologians — who shows you with powerful clarity how to weave gospel-priorities through all your work, all your moments: things not seen, priorities not seen.

It is precisely what John Calvin implored: “We must make the invisible kingdom visible in our midst.”

Turn these profound pages and you will know it. Your heart and mind will focus on His invisible kingdom.

Then go ahead, weave your baskets —

and the invisible kingdom will be made blazingly visible in our midst.

 

so, turning the pages of my preface, & a life-giving excerpt from Things Unseen by Jon Bloom

….  so the story of Naomi in Ruth 1 teaches us that how things look and how things feel are often not how they are.

* * *

The last time Naomi saw her hometown on the Judean hillside, the barley fields were barren in the House of Bread.

The famine had stirred the specter of starvation. Naomi’s husband, Elimelech—not a patient man even in bounty—was convinced that Moab held a better life.

Moving to Moab had frightened Naomi nearly as much as starvation. There was no fear of Yahweh in Moab. The bloodthirsty god, Chemosh, was worshiped there.

Naomi prayed desperately for a full harvest to keep them home, but Yahweh had not moved. So her man of action had moved her, their two sons, and the necessities they could carry, to Moab.

Now, a decade later, Naomi was returning home. The Bethlehem barley fields were full and ripe. But her house was now barren. In Moab, she had suffered a famine of men.

So as her friends greeted her, she replied, “Do not call me Naomi [pleasant]; call me Mara [bitter], for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me” (Ruth 1:20).

It had been a hard ten years. Elimelech died only a year after they had settled. But with a crop in the ground and famine still ravaging Judah, Naomi was trapped.

More Moabite chains fastened on her when her sons Mahlon and Chilion each married Moabite women. She had grieved this deeply at first.

But Ruth and Orpah had surprised her. They proved to be solaces, not sorrows. Quickly she had come to love them like daughters.

Especially Ruth.

How such a woman had come to Mahlon was a marvel. Naomi had never known anyone like her. Ruth was unusually kind and wise beyond her years. And she proved to be the hardest worker in the household. Ruth was an oasis of joy in Naomi’s Moab wilderness.

But the Lord brought disaster on Naomi again when Mahlon and Chilion died just weeks apart. Their deaths left her destitute.

Love-less, man-less, wealth-less, she was left with nothing in a land that cared nothing for her.

What added to the cruelty was that her sons’ deaths would strip her of Ruth and Orpah, the only two left in that God-forsaken place that did care.

It felt like driving two more knives into her heart, but with no way to support them, she knew she had to send them away.

Their best chance for salvaged lives was to return to their fathers’ homes and hope to marry again someday. Her best chance was to go home and hopefully live off the goodwill of anyone in Elimelech’s clan who had any.

The girls took her decision hard.

They wept together over their dead and over the death of the life they had known. Both young widows feared for Naomi’s survival and expressed their willingness to stay with her.

But Naomi would not hear of it. And Orpah knew she was right.

But not Ruth.

Ruth would not hear of leaving. When Naomi pressed her, Ruth made a vow—to Yahweh:  “Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.” (Ruth 1:16-17)

Such a vow could not be broken, and Naomi both rejoiced and grieved over it.

And she marveled again.

Why would this young Moabitess, who excelled all other women, cast her lot with a hopeless old widow and a God whose favor seemed clearly to have been withdrawn?

The odd thing was that in Ruth’s favor on her  —  Naomi recognized the faint scent of Yahweh’s favor.

But she fought against hope. What harvest could possibly spring up from the seeds of all those tragic tears sown over the past ten years?

*  *  *

When Naomi arrived in Bethlehem after her sorrowful sojourn in Moab, she could not see a harvest from her tears. It all looked like a tragedy; like “vanity and striving after wind” (Eccl. 1:14).

That’s how it looked. That’s how it felt. But that’s not how it was.

In reality, all of the ups and downs in Naomi’s life—the famine, the move to Moab, the deaths of Elimelech, Mahlon, and Chilion, Ruth’s loyalty, Naomi’s return at barley harvest, Boaz, and the kinsman who chose not to redeem Ruth—all of these events played parts in God’s plan to redeem millions and weave a Moabite into the royal, Messianic bloodline.

The bigger story of redemption was far bigger than they imagined. Even though they were in the middle of the story, none of them could see it from their vantage point.

We must remember this perspective in our times of desolation, grief and loss.

How things appear to us, and how they actually are, are rarely the same.

Sometimes it looks and feels like the Almighty is dealing “very bitterly” with us, when all the while He is doing us and many others more good than we could have imagined.

God’s purposes in the lives of His children are always gracious. Always.

If they don’t look like it, don’t trust your perceptions.

Trust God’s promises.

He is always fulfilling His promises.

 

this post is Voskamp’s preface & an excerpt from Bloom’s, Things Not Seen: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Trusting God’s Promises

Jon Bloom and his beautiful wife, Pam, came to The Farm with their pretty wondrous children, and we sat up late under stars and sang worship to the Maker of those stars while their talented son, Levi, accompanied us on his guitar, sang hymns around the dinner table in the morning, and prayed our hearts as if pouring out pitchers. When we waved goodbye to the Bloom’s — it was our hearts that brimmed with rich conversation, deep friendship and more of the joy of the Lord. 

As Co-founder, Board Chair, and Author of Desiring God, Jon Bloom’s heart beats after God’s and his just released book, Things Not Seen is a feast of a read that will serve you more of what your soul is seriously hungering for. I cannot recommend highly enough.

Links for 2015-08-01 [del.icio.us]

One Year After Ferguson (In Which I Have Some Questions for You)

@DeidraRiggs.... I deeply respect this woman... and she's hosting a helpful conversation...

Links for 2015-07-31 [del.icio.us]

How a group of female artists reclaimed one of India's scariest streets

"With a conversation, there's empathy..."

when you really need a fresh way forward: The Emmaus Option

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It can feel like the sky is falling in.

Can feel like the edges of all things sane and good and beautiful and right are being crushed by an indifferent madness.

Can feel like we have to get out of town, get out of the whirl, the noise, the circling buzz that might drive a soul tone deaf.

You can go looking for big open places to exhale, to surrender to the way even your breathing can’t stop saying the syllables of His name. YHWH, YHWH.

They say that the number of Americans who describe themselves as Christians has dropped by nearly eight percentage points in just seven years.

They say that 327,653 babies were aborted by Planned Parenthood, just in the year 2013.

They say that while we rightful mourn the wrongful death of a lion, ISIS was forcing little children to decapitate human beings in Syria, and that there’s this release of another  video exploring how Planned Parenthood sells body organs from babies.

They say that black children are three times more likely to be suspended from elementary school than white children. That people with “black-sounding names” have to send out 50 percent more job applications than people with “white-sounding names” just to get a call back, and Lacrae is asking honest questions about why we combat every other injustice by bringing awareness to it, so why would we think we can combat racism by being quiet about it ?

You can stand in one of those big open places like Lost Valley Ranch, where there’s space to let your lungs expand and hear them say that the trees lit up like torches along the sides of these Colorado mountains back in 2002, that flames licked up all these rocks like a sick mockery of hope.

They say the fire all started because a woman kneeled down over a ring of stones, struck a match to burn up an impassioned letter from her estranged husband — and the flames jumped the stones, flamed up the sun-dead grass, and consumed 133 homes, breathed out a smoke plume so staggering that it created it’s own weather, charred nearly 140,000 acres, the largest fire in Colorado’s history, twice as large as the state’s second largest fire.

When asked by a reporter what Colorado looked liked from the air during the Hayman fire, the Governor of Colorado said, “It looks like the whole state of Colorado is on fire.”

It can look like the whole world is a blazing inferno during the middle of a stifling hot summer.

The burn of a broken heart within can  incinerate a whole forest.

And you can throw your boot into the stirrup, pull up gentle onto the willing back of your horse, and you can ride quiet up into the scarred mountains. You can settle into the easy rhythm that in a smouldering summer of protest over all things good and holy — maybe there is no need to show anyone who is right, only a need to show someone our scars.

Only a need to show our soft-white marks, show the tender and bruised underbelly of our armour, show how we’ve been burned and scorched and seared — and how we were once the cynical, Doubting Thomas and Jesus humbly came and showed us His scars and we touched our wounds to His — and in that holy moment of scars touching scars — we knew and felt and were healed by the Truth. 

When people simply let their scars meet —  Healing Truth can meet their scars.   

Maybe no one needs us to out-debate them this summer, like they need us to out-love them. Maybe no one needs us to prove anything like they need us to have proof of what mends us… of what moves us.

They say it will take 150 years to heal and return these mountainsides. Who knows how long for a land scorched by injustice and singed with ache to quietly humble and pray and heal and return?

This is true, you can feel it in the wind: When it feels like your world’s burning down, there are no Really Good Formulas — there is simply being Real  — and keeping your eyes on Him who is always Good. 

The spacious sky up here is begging us to look up. To be still and know… 

Jesus doesn’t need us to be His militants in a broken world — as much as He invites all of us who’ve been mangled by this broken world to simply point to our Mender.  

Since we only have relationship with Him through His scars, we are as relatable as our scars — which lets others touch their scars to His — and be healed by His wounds.

The trail here at the Ranch winds up these mountains ragged and torn with the thorns of a million fired trees.

The horses climb higher, like they’re finding a way through.

Like all our scars could lead to Him and the healing we all seek in a wounded and starved world.

And who knows why it comes right them, no idea at all why it comes right then, but the prophet Amos echoes across these burned and tree barren hillsides,

““The days are coming,” declares the Sovereign Lord, “when I will send a famine through the land— not a famine of food or a thirst for water — but a famine of hearing the words of the Lord.

People will stagger from sea to sea  and wander from north to east, searching for the word of the Lord, but they will not find it.”

And it’s like you can hear Martin Luther answer up here where the earth’s been burnt bare and heaven’s reaching down: “A man’s word is a little sound that flies into the air, and soon vanishes; but the Word of God is greater than heaven and earth, yea, greater than death and hell, for it forms part of the power of God, and endures everlastingly.”

Maybe in a summer that burned down churches, that feels like the church is burning with an inferno of opinions from within,  a summer that feels like the arson of humanity and holy things, maybe that is what extinguishes the flame: In a broken world that may not esteem the Bible, but still esteems Jesus, it’s Jesus who says that the Scripture cannot be broken.

His Word cannot be falsified, disqualified, modified or nullified. His Word cannot be distorted or inverted or reinvented or demerited or interpreted away. His Word is beauty, it is wooing, and it will all be accomplished absolutely.

The debate of the day may change, the crisis may change, the screaming headlines of the genuinely horrifying may change — but, in the entire heaving cosmos, this remains unchangeable, unstoppable, undaunted: The Word of God. His Word is absolute and resolute and it will remain until time concludes.

God’s Word is more permanent than any words written in granite — or in headlines or campaign slogans or PR statements or press releases or laws.

Mountain rock is fleetingly temporary compared to the forever permanence of the Rock of His Word.  Culture cannot shape it and society cannot silence it and scarred people cannot help but be wooed by it, healed by it, held by it.

And the Lover of the letter, He soothes: “The mountains may pass away, but my truth will not pass away, the grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever, and though the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but My steadfast love shall not depart from you.”

And we are held by His love up here in an an ocean sky over Lost Valley Ranch, the mountains falling way on the horizon, the horses riding us higher into the wilderness that may be a necessity, and it all looks like a painting, like we’re all riding through a painting. A great C.M. Russell painting — it’s like swaying down through these gullies and wandering up through new aspen growth, you could think you almost knew C.M. Russell.

But that’s the thing: no matter how you look at an artist’s painting, no matter how you sit with the painting, no matter how you feel like you’re in the painting and you know the painter — You don’t truly know anyone unless you’ve exchanged words with them.  You don’t truly know God unless you surrender, believe, and truly obey the Word of God. 

Nature may let us feel close to God — but only knowing the nature of God’s Word, let’s us actually know God. 

And He’s the One who is not surprised by the headlines or our heartbreaks, the One who is using all things for good things, the One who reaches out His hand not to see our medals but to touch our scars.

He’s the One who makes us faith pilgrims ask during this blazing summer : What is our way through a post-Christian culture, what are our options to love the wounded, bind up the hurting, dress all the bleeding with Grace and Truth, edify the Body from the inside so that we can live out the Great Commission to the outside?

When our neighbours are different than us and think different than us, when our Facebook friends’ perspectives and politics are foreign to us, when faith communities and colleagues hold different opinions and vision than ours — what is our option? 

There’s been talk of a Benedict option —  this idea of pioneering forms of retreating from a post-Christian culture to create intentional faith communities, “an intentional and thoughtful retreat into narrativity, to live the church’s story, inculcating commitment to it within the lives of its members.”

The Benedict Option, it’s an idea with merit… an idea with history….

But here I am on a scarred mountain side, in the middle of a summer that’s burning up the edges of everything, wondering what would happen if The People of the Cross took the Emmaus Road through this landscape, took the Emmaus Way — took up something that looked like The Emmaus Option:

“They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus Himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing Him.

… And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, He explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning Himself.

As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus continued on as if He were going farther. But they urged Him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.” So He went in to stay with them.

When He was at the table with them, He took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized Him…

They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while He talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?”

People are talking to “each other about everything that is happening,” a summer that has us disoriented and discussing and debating. And Jesus walks with us here, but how do we recognize Him or Truth or the the grace of Cross-Shaped Love that can make sense of what is happening in culture right now?

 To make sense what’s happening all around us, what if it was The Emmaus Option that gave us the option of a way of radical Grace and Truth  through a post-Christian landscape? 

The Emmaus Option

1. The Emmaus Option suggests the breaking open of Scriptures to see how every page is scarred with the passion of Christ.

2. The Emmaus Option suggests the breaking of our plans and agendas to stay by people, stay close to people, stay with people. 

3. The Emmaus Option suggests the breaking of bread with people, the breaking cynicism to give thanks amongst the people, the daily gift of being broken and given to the people. 

What if it were this Broken Way, this Emmaus Option, that opens eyes, opens minds, tenderly opens broken and busted hearts, kindles them with life — “Their eyes were opened, they recognized Him… They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us?”

The Emmaus Option says, in the words of Tim Keller: “What would it look like for Christians to live so beautifully that, if they left their cities, the people would weep?” 

The Emmaus Option says:  Our way through any landscape is always simple: Use every gift God’s given you to make the world greater, not worse.

The Emmaus Option says: The Body of Christ must recapture its vision as the only collective in the world that exists for its non-members.

The Body of Christ exists for it’s non-members. 

We are a community in exile that exists for the exiled, the reviled, the profiled and the longing-to-be-reconciled. 

We could be a community that lives what we believe: love doesn’t always mean agreement with you, but it always means sacrifice for you.

We could be a community that lives what we’ve known: we’re called to live such offensive Grace it looks like we’re soft on Truth — because wasn’t Jesus Himself routinely accused of being a glutton and a drunk, even though He was neither, because the King of our Kingdom lived His life around addicts and prostitutes, the shady tax collectors and the broken down and busted up and the religiously disdained… and He never once explained Himself, but only continually gave of Himself.

If Jesus welcomed sinners and ate with them — why would we position ourselves to sit  at any other table?  (Luke 15:1-2)

We could be a community who will not dish out condemnation but hand out courage, who will be known for leaning in and listening long and loving large, for defining success as simply showing up and bending down, for focusing on serving well instead of debating well, for serving long after the lights have been turned off, because there’s this light in us….

We could be the community that offers The Emmaus Option: Be the bread so broken and given — that a hungry world yearns for more of the taste of such glory.   

An option like this could make all our broken hearts burn within us again…

The light gets caught in the mountains that last night up in Lost Valley…

Strange, how a valley can look like a valley of cupped hands, how the mountains can look like they’re blazing with an epiphany of hope.

How you can be standing there and you can literally feel how the burning of all our broken hearts within us —

this could kindle a wildfire of new glory.

 

Resource: where real people gather to laugh real loud, pray raw honest & love each other large: Lost Valley Ranch

when you feel a bit like the world’s ablaze with hard things: The Emmaus Option

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It can feel like the sky is falling in.

Can feel like the edges of all things sane and good and beautiful and right are being crushed by an indifferent madness.

Can feel like we have to get out of town, get out of the whirl, the noise, the circling buzz that might drive a soul tone deaf.

You can go looking for big open places to exhale, to surrender to the way even your breathing can’t stop saying the syllables of His name. YHWH, YHWH.

They say that the number of Americans who describe themselves as Christians has dropped by nearly eight percentage points in just seven years.

They say that 327,653 babies were aborted by Planned Parenthood, just in the year 2013.

They say that while we rightful mourn the wrongful death of a lion, ISIS was forcing little children to decapitate human beings in Syria, and that there’s this release of another  video exploring how Planned Parenthood sells body organs from babies.

They say that black children are three times more likely to be suspended from elementary school than white children. That people with “black-sounding names” have to send out 50 percent more job applications than people with “white-sounding names” just to get a call back, and Lacrae is asking honest questions about why we combat every other injustice by bringing awareness to it, so why would we think we can combat racism by being quiet about it ?

You can stand in one of those big open places like Lost Valley Ranch, where there’s space to let your lungs expand and hear them say that the trees lit up like torches along the sides of these Colorado mountains back in 2002, that flames licked up all these rocks like a sick mockery of hope.

They say the fire all started because a woman kneeled down over a ring of stones, struck a match to burn up an impassioned letter from her estranged husband — and the flames jumped the stones, flamed up the sun-dead grass, and consumed 133 homes, breathed out a smoke plume so staggering that it created it’s own weather, charred nearly 140,000 acres, the largest fire in Colorado’s history, twice as large as the state’s second largest fire.

When asked by a reporter what Colorado looked liked from the air during the Hayman fire, the Governor of Colorado said, “It looks like the whole state of Colorado is on fire.”

It can look like the whole world is a blazing inferno during the middle of a stifling hot summer.

The burn of a broken heart within can  incinerate a whole forest.

And you can throw your boot into the stirrup, pull up gentle onto the willing back of your horse, and you can ride quiet up into the scarred mountains. You can settle into the easy rhythm that in a smouldering summer of protest over all things good and holy — maybe there is no need to show anyone who is right, only a need to show someone our scars.

Only a need to show our soft-white marks, show the tender and bruised underbelly of our armour, show how we’ve been burned and scorched and seared — and how we were once the cynical, Doubting Thomas and Jesus humbly came and showed us His scars and we touched our wounds to His — and in that holy moment of scars touching scars — we knew and felt and were healed by the Truth. 

When people simply let their scars meet —  Healing Truth can meet their scars.   

Maybe no one needs us to out-debate them this summer, like they need us to out-love them. Maybe no one needs us to prove anything like they need us to have proof of what mends us… of what moves us.

They say it will take 150 years to heal and return these mountainsides. Who knows how long for a land scorched by injustice and singed with ache to quietly humble and pray and heal and return?

This is true, you can feel it in the wind: When it feels like your world’s burning down, there are no Really Good Formulas — there is simply being Real  — and keeping your eyes on Him who is always Good. 

The spacious sky up here is begging us to look up. To be still and know… 

Jesus doesn’t need us to be His militants in a broken world — as much as He invites all of us who’ve been mangled by this broken world to simply point to our Mender.  

Since we only have relationship with Him through His scars, we are as relatable as our scars — which lets others touch their scars to His — and be healed by His wounds.

The trail here at the Ranch winds up these mountains ragged and torn with the thorns of a million fired trees.

The horses climb higher, like they’re finding a way through.

Like all our scars could lead to Him and the healing we all seek in a wounded and starved world.

And who knows why it comes right them, no idea at all why it comes right then, but the prophet Amos echoes across these burned and tree barren hillsides,

““The days are coming,” declares the Sovereign Lord, “when I will send a famine through the land— not a famine of food or a thirst for water — but a famine of hearing the words of the Lord.

People will stagger from sea to sea  and wander from north to east, searching for the word of the Lord, but they will not find it.”

And it’s like you can hear Martin Luther answer up here where the earth’s been burnt bare and heaven’s reaching down: “A man’s word is a little sound that flies into the air, and soon vanishes; but the Word of God is greater than heaven and earth, yea, greater than death and hell, for it forms part of the power of God, and endures everlastingly.”

Maybe in a summer that burned down churches, that feels like the church is burning with an inferno of opinions from within,  a summer that feels like the arson of humanity and holy things, maybe that is what extinguishes the flame: In a broken world that may not esteem the Bible, but still esteems Jesus, it’s Jesus who says that the Scripture cannot be broken.

His Word cannot be falsified, disqualified, modified or nullified. His Word cannot be distorted or inverted or reinvented or demerited or interpreted away. His Word is beauty, it is wooing, and it will all be accomplished absolutely.

The debate of the day may change, the crisis may change, the screaming headlines of the genuinely horrifying may change — but, in the entire heaving cosmos, this remains unchangeable, unstoppable, undaunted: The Word of God. His Word is absolute and resolute and it will remain until time concludes.

God’s Word is more permanent than any words written in granite — or in headlines or campaign slogans or PR statements or press releases or laws.

Mountain rock is fleetingly temporary compared to the forever permanence of the Rock of His Word.  Culture cannot shape it and society cannot silence it and scarred people cannot help but be wooed by it, healed by it, held by it.

And the Lover of the letter, He soothes: “The mountains may pass away, but my truth will not pass away, the grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever, and though the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but My steadfast love shall not depart from you.”

And we are held by His love up here in an an ocean sky over Lost Valley Ranch, the mountains falling way on the horizon, the horses riding us higher into the wilderness that may be a necessity, and it all looks like a painting, like we’re all riding through a painting. A great C.M. Russell painting — it’s like swaying down through these gullies and wandering up through new aspen growth, you could think you almost knew C.M. Russell.

But that’s the thing: no matter how you look at an artist’s painting, no matter how you sit with the painting, no matter how you feel like you’re in the painting and you know the painter — You don’t truly know anyone unless you’ve exchanged words with them.  You don’t truly know God unless you surrender, believe, and truly obey the Word of God. 

Nature may let us feel close to God — but only knowing the nature of God’s Word, let’s us actually know God. 

And He’s the One who is not surprised by the headlines or our heartbreaks, the One who is using all things for good things, the One who reaches out His hand not to see our medals but to touch our scars.

He’s the One who makes us faith pilgrims ask during this blazing summer : What is our way through a post-Christian culture, what are our options to love the wounded, bind up the hurting, dress all the bleeding with Grace and Truth, edify the Body from the inside so that we can live out the Great Commission to the outside?

When our neighbours are different than us and think different than us, when our Facebook friends’ perspectives and politics are foreign to us, when faith communities and colleagues hold different opinions and vision than ours — what is our option? 

There’s been talk of a Benedict option —  this idea of pioneering forms of retreating from a post-Christian culture to create intentional faith communities, “an intentional and thoughtful retreat into narrativity, to live the church’s story, inculcating commitment to it within the lives of its members.”

The Benedict Option, it’s an idea with merit… an idea with history….

But here I am on a scarred mountain side, in the middle of a summer that’s burning up the edges of everything, wondering what would happen if The People of the Cross took the Emmaus Road through this landscape, took the Emmaus Way — took up something that looked like The Emmaus Option:

“They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus Himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing Him.

… And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, He explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning Himself.

As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus continued on as if He were going farther. But they urged Him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.” So He went in to stay with them.

When He was at the table with them, He took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized Him…

They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while He talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?”

People are talking to “each other about everything that is happening,” a summer that has us disoriented and discussing and debating. And Jesus walks with us here, but how do we recognize Him or Truth or the the grace of Cross-Shaped Love that can make sense of what is happening in culture right now?

 To make sense what’s happening all around us, what if it was The Emmaus Option that gave us the option of a way of radical Grace and Truth  through a post-Christian landscape? 

The Emmaus Option

1. The Emmaus Option suggests the breaking open of Scriptures to see how every page is scarred with the passion of Christ.

2. The Emmaus Option suggests the breaking of our plans and agendas to stay by people, stay close to people, stay with people. 

3. The Emmaus Option suggests the breaking of bread with people, the breaking cynicism to give thanks amongst the people, the daily gift of being broken and given to the people. 

What if it were this Broken Way, this Emmaus Option, that opens eyes, opens minds, tenderly opens broken and busted hearts, kindles them with life — “Their eyes were opened, they recognized Him… They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us?”

The Emmaus Option says, in the words of Tim Keller: “What would it look like for Christians to live so beautifully that, if they left their cities, the people would weep?” 

The Emmaus Option says:  Our way through any landscape is always simple: Use every gift God’s given you to make the world greater, not worse.

The Emmaus Option says: The Body of Christ must recapture its vision as the only collective in the world that exists for its non-members.

The Body of Christ exists for it’s non-members. 

We are a community in exile that exists for the exiled, the reviled, the profiled and the longing-to-be-reconciled. 

We could be a community that lives what we believe: love doesn’t always mean agreement with you, but it always means sacrifice for you.

We could be a community that lives what we’ve known: we’re called to live such offensive Grace it looks like we’re soft on Truth — because wasn’t Jesus Himself routinely accused of being a glutton and a drunk, even though He was neither, because the King of our Kingdom lived His life around addicts and prostitutes, the shady tax collectors and the broken down and busted up and the religiously disdained… and He never once explained Himself, but only continually gave of Himself.

If Jesus welcomed sinners and ate with them — why would we position ourselves to sit  at any other table?  (Luke 15:1-2)

We could be a community who will not dish out condemnation but hand out courage, who will be known for leaning in and listening long and loving large, for defining success as simply showing up and bending down, for focusing on serving well instead of debating well, for serving long after the lights have been turned off, because there’s this light in us….

We could be the community that offers The Emmaus Option: Be the bread so broken and given — that a hungry world yearns for more of the taste of such glory.   

An option like this could make all our broken hearts burn within us again…

The light gets caught in the mountains that last night up in Lost Valley…

Strange, how a valley can look like a valley of cupped hands, how the mountains can look like they’re blazing with an epiphany of hope.

How you can be standing there and you can literally feel how the burning of all our broken hearts within us —

this could kindle a wildfire of new glory.

 

Resource: where real people gather to laugh real loud, pray raw honest & love each other large: Lost Valley Ranch

Links for 2015-07-30 [del.icio.us]

What not to say in an email to coworkers

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when you’re looking for answers to the Cry of the Aching Woman’s Heart

Sarah Mae‘s an honest, brave woman, who has this infectious laugh you can’t help but love — and she’s a woman who longs for home, the place where she is really known and loved and accepted for who she is, even on the bad days. Her purpose in writing is to encourage women to keep on, and begin again, knowing that none of us are alone as we walk through this life. It’s a grace to welcome my vulnerable and courageous friend, Sarah Mae, to the farm’s front porch today…

guest post by Sarah Mae

T wo things followed by lots of questions.

First, I would read posts or hear proclamations about following our dreams.

“Follow your dreams!” is the mantra of our day, it seems.

But it confused me and if I’m being really honest it made me mad. And a bit resentful.

Sure, maybe you can follow your dreams, I lamented in my mind, but I can’t. I have responsibilities; I have a family and I can’t just up and leave and follow my dreams.

I was always particularly resentful when men said this.

They didn’t understand the life of a woman.

They didn’t understand my life.

Second, I watched through a screen the beautiful pictures of Tuscany coming from writer friends who were enjoying a retreat of sorts in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

With every scroll through, my heart beat a little faster and I longed to be there with them. I wasn’t so much jealous as I was stuck.

I felt stuck and sad and I didn’t know what to do with this intense pull towards the beauty I couldn’t have.

My heart ached.

So this pain and these pulls and this resentment all collided into questions, as ache oftentimes does.

What do I do with these longings that beat hard in my chest?

What are dreams and what does it really mean to follow them, and is that even a biblical concept?

And as a woman particularly, what does it all mean?

What am I here for? Is it just to be a wife and a mom, which is good and beautiful for sure, but what is this stuff in my soul that won’t go away?

Am I selfish for considering my longings? Aren’t Christ followers supposed to die to themselves? Can I live a cross-centered life and still “follow my dreams”?

And the deepest question of all for me was this: Lord, how do you see me?

Because I’m a woman, do you even care about these longings in my soul? Do you even really care about women or are we just for the pleasure of a man and to raise children?

These questions were the cry of a woman desperate to understand, and the cry of a woman who also has daughters.

I needed answers.

I feel I need to pause here for a moment and say that I am so thankful for my life and my family. I am deeply grateful that I have my children and am able to be with them day in and day out; they are a delight to me.

These questions, these deep-seated roots that came out as questions, they are just honest and vulnerable and a part of the story that God is unfolding in my life.

When we are desperate as beggars (Matthew 5:3, literal translation)the Kingdom is ours and the blessing can be found.

It was in my desperation of wanting to know how God saw me that I was able to see Him.

And to see Him, God took me to Job.

Most of us know the story so I’m not going to go into, suffice to know that Job suffered greatly and is known for not sinning through his suffering.

What I didn’t know as I walked back through the ancient pages of the story is that Job accused God of being cruel and unjust. He accused God of seeing man as just a “hired hand” (Job 14:6) who must suffer through his days.

Job accused God, and it’s exactly what my heart was doing. “Why God?” was an accusation more than a question, because that’s what it comes down to, the why. “Why do women get treated so badly in the world? Do you even care about women? Do you even care about me?”

There was a young man in the story of Job that was not one of “Job’s friends”, the ones who were painfully unhelpful in Job’s distress and depression. Elihu, a man who had the courage to say to Job, “You are not right in this”. (Job 32) And through the many good and true words of Elihu also comes this: “Teach me to see what I do not see.”

Oh that I would. Teach me to see what I don’t see.

At the end of it all, after the pain and brokenness and the rebukes and the truth and God questioning Job, Job says something profound. As he is repenting, he says, “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; But now my eye sees You.” (Job 42:5)

But now my eye sees You.

Oh how we so often think we know and understand God because of what our mind’s understand about him, but it is a wonder for us to really see Him for who He is.

Job didn’t repent because he did something wrong; he repented because he didn’t see God for who He was.

He thought he understood all of God’s ways, and he thought he could argue with God. His accusations were based on the darkness of his mind, his not know all there is to know. Job didn’t see God.

And I wasn’t seeing God.  To know how He sees me, I must first see Him.

I must settle in my heart that He is good. That’s the first thing.

The second thing is this: I must settle it in my heart that He is good to me. His daughter. His beloved.

See God doesn’t die for a “hired hand” as Job said. No. God dies for His loves.

He died for me and He died for all women and for all the broken and confused and desperate among us.

And it is there we can begin.

We are loved. We are seen. And God cares about our dreams and our longings and every inch of our hearts because He cares about us.

If you are broken or alone or have questions and aches, good.

It’s good to be desperate if you’re willing to be desperate enough to cry out to Him and let Him reach into the aching places and reveal you and heal you and speak to you.

When you are wide open and vulnerable and desperate as a beggar,

you will be blessed.

 

 

Sarah Mae  hosted a wondrous webinar last night about answering the longings of a woman’s heart, and if you order Longing for Paris, send a screenshot of your receipt to longingforparisbook@gmail.com — Sarah Mae will send you the complete webinar.

This book’s for you, the woman who loves your husband and your kids, and are grateful to God for your life. But there are days when you feel as though life is rolling over you in waves and you are just going through the motions. You find yourself aching for something more, something that is calling to the depths of who you are, maybe for something you can’t even name.

Join Sarah Mae, wife, mom, homeschool teacher, and the coauthor of the bestselling book, Desperate: Hope for the Mom Who Needs to Breathe, in Longing for Paris, a soul-searching, light-filled journey for the woman who knows she can’t uproot her life to discover herself and her longings, but who desperately wants to uncover them so she can get unstuck and choose a life that is filled with beauty, adventure, and deep joy. A read for a woman’s heart that’s like her own personal vacation– when she wishes she could wing to Paris before the summer’s over…

[ Our humble thanks to Tyndale House Publishers for their partnership of today’s devotion ]

when you’re tired of co-existing with your people & want to actually connect

Dr. Kimberling and his wife Nancy and have been married over forty years and they say they still work on it every day. Their hope was that they would work awhile at marriage, get it “right”, and then coast for fifty years or so. They realized that this hope was not reality. “7 Secrets to an Awesome Marriage” is about purposefully closing the gap each day between where your marriage is and where God wants it to be.  Dr. Kimberling‘s passion is helping people have Awesome Marriages and wherever your marriage is today, he believes God has even greater things… It’s a grace to welcome Dr. Kimberling to the farm’s front porch today…

 

by Dr. Kim Kimberling

If you’ve had any exposure whatsoever to marriage resources, you know what experts say is essential over and over again: communication.

Of the couples I see in counseling, the ones who really communicate well and set aside time to do so seem to consistently also have good marriages.

But in all this hype about communication, here’s what is often missed:

Communication does not simply mean the talking kind. It means connection in a special way.

Most couples communicate pretty well before marriage. I have seen surveys that usually put that number at around three hours a day.

On the other hand there are surveys that say those same couples a few years into marriage will spend an average of five minutes a day communicating.

What happens?

The reasons may vary from couple to couple, but the bottom line is that we quit making it a priority. We lose sight of God’s design.

In the early days of our marriage, I often chose to spend my time on work, TV, tennis, and hanging out with friends.

None were bad in and of themselves, but Nancy no longer felt she was important. She was not always my number two (after my relationship with God).

Nancy’s schedule was different from mine. She was finishing college and had a lot of free time. She was now a married student who went to class and then came home. She was bored, missed her college friends, and was not as happy as she thought she would be.

In her evaluation, it was my fault.

At that point, we should have turned to each other and said let’s get back on track.

We could have worked together to figure this early marriage thing out. We could have, but we did not.

Instead of embracing our differences and dealing with them, we embraced the distractions and slowly stepped away from each other.

Our communication that was so good before marriage got worse and worse. We were morphing into the thirty-five-minutes-a-week communication statistic. Things needed to change, or this marriage would end in disaster.

How connected are you today with your spouse?

Are you more connected than ever, or are you becoming strangers? Think about a typical day and the things that you do. How do you spend your time? How much time do you set aside to connect with your spouse?

I can sit in the same room or on the same couch with Nancy and not be connected. Just being in each other’s presence does not connect us.

Sure, it helps. The opportunity is there, but to connect, someone has to initiate.

That initiation may be a conversation, or it could be a hug or a kiss.

Connection happens when one initiates and the other one responds. So you have to make a choice in how to spend your time together.

Most nights during the workweek, I get home around 6:30 p.m. My days are long. I start at 5:30 a.m. by rolling (often literally) out of bed and having some time with God. Then I head to the gym to work out, come back home to get ready, and head to the office. By the time I walk in the house in the evening, I can be pretty tired.

Now this is where I have some choices.

Let’s look at two options.

Option one:

I can sit down to relax. After all, I have worked all day and I deserve this time to myself. Watching TV or listening to music helps me unwind and distracts me from the pressures of the day. Usually by 7:00 p.m. or so, we have dinner.

It is nice to have a quiet dinner or maybe continue watching a show I have gotten interested in.

After dinner, we usually watch something together. By nine thirty or ten, I am ready to head to bed. Nancy usually follows me pretty soon after, but sometimes I am asleep before she gets to the bedroom.

The next day and the next and the next can all be repeats.

Same pattern. Same unconnected time together, and eventually we realize that we are just coexisting. We are not fighting, but we sure are not connecting.

We are unconnected.

And unconnected couples can become strangers.

Option two:

I come in the house at 6:30 p.m. and the first thing I do is find my wife.

This is not a Lewis and Clark thing. I can usually find her in the kitchen, her office, or the back part of our house.

Then I do one of my favorite things.

I hug her and give her a kiss, and you know what? That hug and kiss energize me. They usually do much more for me than watching TV or listening to music. Someone told me years ago that the first five minutes a couple is together in the evening sets the tone for the night.

Taking time to connect makes a difference.

We then usually spend time talking and catching up on each other’s day. We always have dinner together and like watching something together we both want to see.

I have no problem with a couple watching a show or movie together. We are experiencing the same thing and can interact on it. Then we can get each other’s take on what we have both seen.

We connect.

Usually I am the first to head to the bedroom, but I wait for Nancy so we can pray together.

We connect.

Then even as we go to sleep, we are always touching. It may be our feet or our hands or cuddling.

We connect.

Two options, and a number of choices. If we consistently choose option two, we stay connected.

We are both initiating and both responding.

Something else I find interesting: When I choose option one, I am often still tired the next morning.

When I choose option two, I usually wake refreshed and energized.

I believe it is the connection.

God designed us for relationships — a relationship with Him and a relationship with others.

When we connect in marriage with our spouse, we are fulfilling God’s design for our lives; and it makes a difference.

How about setting aside some time with your spouse to talk about connecting?

Tell each other when you feel the most connected.

Share how connected you feel in your marriage today.

Is this where you want to be? If it is, great. Keep on doing what you are doing.

If not, what will you do today to connect?

 

Dr. Kimberling has been a professional counselor for over thirty years. He holds a PhD and Doctor of Ministry in Christian Counseling. He also holds a Master’s Degree in Christian Ministry and Theological Studies, and he is the founder and leader of the Awesome Marriage Movement, connecting people globally who want to have awesome marriages. Dr. Kimberling has been married to his wife, Nancy, for forty-four years and they have two grown married children and five incredible grandchildren.

Maybe this is the gift to give each other this summer — 7 Secrets to An Awesome Marriage: Strengthen Your Most Intimate Relationship.

[ Our humble thanks to Zondervan for their partnership of today’s devotion ]

unwrapping summer: the absolute easiest way to make this a great, unforgettable summer

When the sun slides down windows, beckoning us to come out now, you have time now to come out and be — it’s like hope and grace begin again with every summer day.

And these fleeting summer days unwrap like melting ice cream sandwiches, like gladiolas unfolding unabashedly glad in the garden, like monarchs unfolding out of pearled cocoons in His own perfect time.

Try, but really, are there fresher words than those two: summer morning? Summer mornings and the air thick with the spices of a thousand opening flowers and would it matter if we were one of the winged ones that lived only a handful of summer days, because we could fill those handful of open-handed days with more glory than a cynical seventy years might ever contain?

You unwrap the gifts you’ve always wanted most — when tight hands unfold into open-handed trust.

Esther Havens, who brings us our next instalment of our Unwrapping Summer series, is one of my favourite people on the planet and she lives like this… She lives open-handed, lives like every day is an adventure project not to be missed, lives like there are only so many summers —

and gratitude in the present can make any day, anywhere, a gift. 

*  *   *

guest post and photos by Esther Havens

I’ve been running around for a month in Africa living out of my suitcase.

I’m exhausted right now. I have no more steam in me. I miss my own bed and my own comforts of home.

It’s in these exhausted moments, that in the past, I’ve wanted to quit and not continue photographing for non-profits in developing countries.

To most, the life of a humanitarian photographer seems glamorous.

At times, I think it is.

But most of the time,  it’s long 12 hour days driving on bumpy roads, sweating in the hot sun, feeling sick, and listening to stories from people that break your heart.

Driving the bumpy roads in Ethiopia
Sweet Grace in Kageyo
Hope Voskamp and I visiting Kevine, my sponsored child with Africa New Life Ministries
Standing in the wind in Omo Valley, Ethiopia
My lovely family all together at my Grandfather’s funeral in Illinois
Some of my closest girlfriends cherishing time together in West Texas
One of my absolute favorite spots in Texas – Marfa! Yes, you can sleep in the Teepees
Bible Storytellers in Omo Valley, Ethiopia
Sunrise in Ethiopia
My Hero Berki – I could talk to this guy for days. He share bible stories with his tribes in his local language in Ethiopia. You can read his story here
Austin Mann and I exploring the trails in Tennessee. I had no idea there were so many beautiful waterfalls around!
Ati came right up to me and grabbed my camera and started shooting. I couldn’t stop her…she knew what she was doing. haha
I always try to give polaroids as a gift to communities after I photograph them. For many people, it’s their first photo print they’ve ever had.
With two new friends in Omo Valley, Ethiopia
Making Smore’s in 90 Degree weather for my bible study group in Dallas
My good friend and Writer, Constance, walking in the desert in West Texas
My friend Paul Pryor captured this amazing photo of thousands of butterflies in Western Uganda. I felt like a Disney Princess in that moment.

I can’t say the past 10 years that I’ve been doing this job has been easy. There have been so many times I didn’t think I could continue doing this. But I’ve stuck with it. I know this is my calling, at least for now.

Years ago, I saw a post on instagram of a person having coffee in Amsterdam airport and they tagged it #BucketList

It made me think about how many times we experience moments that are very normal to us and to someone else it’s their dream.

It is all perspective though.

We can choose to enjoy these moments God has given us to the fullest or let them pass us by.

This summer, I really tried to focus on thankfulness.

Thankfulness for every story I get to listen to (even if my stomach was sick during the interview).

Thankfulness for every bump on those rough roads.

Thankfulness for every time I got up at 5am to photograph to capture golden hour.

Thankfulness for every person’s life I get to be a part of!

Sunset in Rwanda! I love golden hour
Sweet little Mary in Kageyo, Rwanda
My new friends Bosco and Theo showing me all their incredible veggies from their garden. The Africa New Life school now serves lots of greens in the school lunches thanks to these guys.
Sweet Grace lifted her hands and praised the Lord after her very first garden was built for her in Rwanda.
Soaking it all in in Uganda….I can never watch enough sunsets.
My Sweet girl Kevine. I met this girl when she was just a baby and am only now back in her life. I love her with all my heart.
Well Mechanics in Western Uganda for The Adventure Project
The “shot” Betty, Constance and I had to get in front of the Safari car. We spent a lot of hours in this vehicle on bumpy roads
Another one of my favorite spots in Texas….McDonald’s Observatory. It happens to be the darkest spot in Texas. It’s incredible!
Uganda from the air
Farmers in Kenya with The Adventure Project
One of the best car moments of the summer was most definitely passing by this pig on a motorcycle in Kenya.

 

This summer had many ups and downs.

I traveled with my girlfriends to West Texas and had lady time in the desert, I also had to say goodbye to my 90 yr old grandfather who went to be with the Lord.

I worked on a story for the most incredible tribe of Bible Storytellers in Ethiopia with The Seed Company. I photographed farmers making money off their crops in Kenya and water well mechanics fixing broken water pumps for communities in Western Uganda with The Adventure Project.

I spent 2 weeks in Rwanda working on stories about garden projects in a refugee resettlement village and spent time with my sponsored kids I have with Africa New Life. I visited a girl named Dalphine I did a story about last year who lives in a village in Rwanda. Her Father died of Malaria last week. My heart broke so deeply for them.

Emotionally it can be so much to process all of this.

I sometimes want to just run from the sad stories.

Today the most beautiful thing happened. I enrolled a boy that I met in a village 7 yrs ago for driving school. His name is Jean Bosco and I did a story about him on my first trip to Rwanda. On Monday he starts what could be his new full time job.

It’s stories like all of these that remind me that God has us where He wants us for a purpose.

Even when we are tired, we have to keep following His lead.

We all get to be a part of the stories that are interwoven around us.

Today as I’m reflecting and writing this from Rwanda, tears fill my eyes with thankfulness.

God is good —

and His beauty surrounds us.

 

 

Esther Havens , named as one of Christianity Today’s 33 Under 33: Christian Leaders Shaping the Next Generation of Our Faith, is a humanitarian photographer capturing stories that transcend a person’s circumstances and reveal their true strength. For many years she has worked on social-awareness campaigns with organizations such as charity: water, TOMS Shoes, Warby Parker, and Malaria No More.

Her images compel thought and challenge action. She has traveled to over 50 nations in the last 10 years — and she’ll keep going until she sees that every person on the planet has access to education, clean drinking water and a job to provide for their families.  At heart, Esther’s is a connector, fostering relationships across continents, cultures, industries and perspectives. While not traveling, Esther is currently home-based in Dallas, TX at WELD. 

You absolutely have to follow her on Instagram — her pictures are iconic miracles — and do you see where she is now?!?:  Esther’s amazing Instagram. Esther’s also tweeting her way around the world on Twitter and her beautiful website is a wonder.